Halia Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
by Mandee Jo
Summary: Halia Potter is going to Hogwarts for her first year. Unfortunately, she's got more to worry about than Quidditch, duels, and three-headed dogs. Tom Riddle was sent to the future from a past-Dumbledore. Why? And how will these two interact? FEM!HARRY Follows canon mostly, but will change accordingly to better fit the situation. WILL have lesbian overtones, but overall TOMXHP!FEM
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

* * *

October 31, 1981

Minerva McGonagall had spent the last several hours sitting on a stone wall, observing a family of muggles. Her spot on that wall was hardly comfortable, and yet her real uneasiness lay elsewhere.

No, her spot on the stone wall was hardly a concern. Instead, the woman's mind was buzzing with thoughts. Her body was stiff, sure, but she had never felt more alive.

And… despite the celebrations surely going on all over London, she felt alive in a very different way. Her chest was tight and her eyes were creased with worry.

She was not surprised when the lights that lined the street corners suddenly went out; nor was she startled when a figure appeared at her side.

"My dear professor," said the shadow, "I don't think I've seen a cat sit so stiffly."

Sure enough, it was Albus Dumbledore who spoke to her. Despite being in her animagus form, the headmaster had no trouble recognizing Minerva as her tabby-cat alter ego.

"So it's true, then?"

Those were the only words she could think to say once she'd morphed back into a human. Dumbledore merely stared at her for several seconds, before she bluntly pushed on.

"Lily and James Potter – dead? And their daughter – despite being on the end of the killing curse – is the only survivor?"

"I'm afraid so," said the headmaster; and though his voice was light, his eyes held the pain he kept below the surface. "Hagrid is bringing little Halia here as we speak."

Minerva could feel her heart breaking; not wanting to even think about her former students' little girl growing up without her parents. Instead, she chose to think about the muggle family and everything she'd observed that night.

"Albus please listen to my words – you _cannot_ leave her here. These muggles are as worse as they come," she pleaded. "She will be in the dark living with the muggles – there won't be a witch or wizard alive that doesn't know her name."

"Which is exactly why she belongs here," said Dumbledore, before changing the subject. "Do you hear that? I think Hagrid is close."

The professor looked towards the sky, and sure enough a loud, buzzing noise filled the air as a giant figure appeared in the stars. Minerva stared at Dumbledore from the corner of her eye – "Are you sure it was wise to let Hagrid bring her here on a _flying motorcycle_?"

"While I understand your concern, Professor, I would trust Hagrid with my life. And he would give up his before putting Halia in any more danger than she's already endured this night."

The descent and landing of the motorbike put an end to their conversation. Hagrid swung his massive leg over the side and began to approach them. The bundle in his arms looked even more fragile and small when compared against the half-giant's enormous stature.

Soon, all three of them were gazing down at the baby girl. Her giant green eyes were wide open, and a mop of black hair already grew from her small head. A blazing red scar, in the shape of a lightning bolt, was carved into her forehead. Dumbledore silently tucked a letter into the baby's blanket before letting Hagrid set her down on the doorstep.

Minerva couldn't help but roll her eyes at the blubbering mess the half-giant had become. "Will you relax, Hagrid? You will see her again."

"B-b-but that won' be for ten years, Professor!"

"Hush now, Hagrid," said Dumbledore, patting his shoulder gently. "Those ten years will go by faster than you can imagine."

With that said the three of them took their leave just after ringing the doorbell; leaving baby Halia in the hands of corrupt muggles.

With a flick of the wrist, the street lamps burst back to life.


	2. Blast From the Past

_Chapter One_

* * *

June 02, 1991

Minerva McGonagall was on her way to Hagrid's hut – to once again remind the grounds keeper that his annoying dog was _not_ allowed in the castle – when she noticed a curled up figure on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest.

Her first thought was a poor animal had been injured, and was now simply passing its last moments in the peace of dawn's cloak. Then, her heart froze at the possibility of the figure being the very dog she had come to chastise Hagrid about.

Deciding to investigate further – her nagging compassionate side wouldn't rest until she made _sure_ it wasn't Hagrid's dog – Minerva began approaching the forest. With every step, she began to realize that the figure was not Fang…no, the figure was not an animal at all.

The moment the professor came to the realization that what she saw was human, she began to run as fast as she could. Soon, the visibility was no longer an issue. She stood over what was clearly a human boy – a _child_ , no less.

She wondered many things – what was a child doing on Hogwarts property in the middle of the night? How did he get there? What had happened to him? And most importantly, _was he alive?_

Leaning down, Minerva gently pushed the boy onto his back.

Then, she jumped back just as quickly, almost as if the boy's skin had burned her. What she saw stirred her so badly that she let a startled scream escape her throat. Her legs pushed her several feet away from the body.

The Professor barely registered Hagrid's booming footsteps as they approached. It took her a few minutes to shake herself into action, but finally she stood up completely and turned to Hagrid.

"Go get Albus," she ordered, though her voice shook. "Now."

Hagrid was obviously confused, and before he left, he took a step closer to the body on the ground. The half-giant was a bit louder at the discovery than Minerva had been.

He gasped in shock, before almost shouting at her.

"Blimey, Professor!" Hagrid took several steps back. "Is tha' who I think it is?"

"Just go get the headmaster. _Now_."

* * *

The entirety of the Hogwarts' staff stood inside Albus Dumbledore's office. Plus one.

All eyes were glued to the plus one – some in terror, some in confusion, some in curiosity, and some in disbelief. Dumbledore, however, was the only one who didn't look concerned.

"He's obviously been sent here for a reason," he began. "Whether it's something he did or something someone else did…we must always assume there is a reason."

Several moments passed by, but everyone stayed silent.

"I will get everything figured out; until then, you are all dismissed," said Dumbledore, before gesturing to his Potion's Professor. "Except for you, Severus. I would like to have a word with you."

Slowly, the Hogwarts' professors trickled out of the room until only three wizards were left. One of them still unconscious.

"I think we can both agree that the present-time Voldemort is anything but dead," the headmaster began. "And I don't think his past self being here will change that."

Severus only stared blankly at him. "I agree, of course, headmaster…however, I must ask – what help am I to you in regards to this situation?"

The old man gently fingered his silver beard before turning to face the Potion's master head on. "Halia Potter begins school this fall…something tells me that these two are meant to meet…beyond that, I have not the slightest clue what will happen. I want you to keep an eye on them both, as it's clear which house he will be sorted into. He looks to be first-year age."

Severus nodded his head slowly. "And am I safe to assume that we will be giving him a different last name?"

"Not necessary – barely anyone knows of Voldemort as Tom Riddle…and those that do will be informed of our predicament to prevent any future…surprises."

"Very well, Headmaster," said Severus. "I will do my best."

The Potion's master disappeared down the spiraling staircase that led out of Dumbledore's office. The headmaster was finally left to his thoughts.

He had a sneaking suspicion that Tom was sent to the future by Dumbledore himself – his past self must have known that the boy would be in good hands.

Why – or what – he had planned was beyond him, but at the very least he knew his past self wouldn't be stupid enough to not leave any clues for his future self to find.

So, with nothing else to do, he began searching through his office in hopes of finding something left behind. Glancing at the sleeping boy, he could only hope this time turned out differently.


	3. The Rainforest Disaster

_Chapter Two_

* * *

The day was coming to an end, but Halia Potter was not getting ready for slumber. In fact, she was too busy staring out the attic window to even realize the rest of the house's occupants had long since closed their eyes.

Outside, the moon was a full one and it shone brightly in the night sky. Gently fingering her long, unruly black locks, the young girl only sighed.

This was how she spent most of her time; staring out the window, daydreaming of a better life. Day in and day out, Halia only saw the four walls of the attic she was confined to. Her aunt and uncle only let her downstairs to cook meals and clean.

Oh, and to go to the cruel public school where all Halia learned was how to properly defend herself from bullies. And her terrible cousin, Dudley.

As the stars formed pictures her imagination enhanced, she finally turned away from the window. Tomorrow was Dudley's birthday, and as much as she wanted to stay up to witness the sunrise, she knew sleep much better suited her.

Vernon and Petunia, her relatives, were taking their spoiled son on some Rainforest Tour that was clearly not a real rainforest. But still, her cousin couldn't shut up about the chance to see 'big snakes, scary lions, and colorful birds'.

Despite his lack of knowledge on what a rainforest actually was and what animals lived in them, the thought of any animal held captive in some makeshift rainforest made Halia want to throw up. Though, she was looking forward to spending some time unaccompanied in the house.

It was very rare that her aunt and uncle let her stay there without supervision, and the only reason she was able to this time was because Mrs. Figg had broken her leg and couldn't properly look after Halia.

So, of course, the next best option was to just leave her home alone.

Despite not wanting to sleep, the young girl was still out like a light the moment her head hit the pillow.

* * *

The following morning, Halia woke to someone pounding on the floor.

"Wake up, girl!"

It was her Aunt Petunia.

"You have five minutes to get breakfast going!"

Heaving a sigh, she pushed herself into a sitting position and pulled her hair into a ponytail. The rubber band she used was discolored with age, but despite the small strands it pulled that irritated her, it did its job.

Her hair was her biggest mess, honestly.

Sliding on a giant t-shirt that used to belong to her cousin and a long skirt that belonged to her aunt, she let the ladder fall to the second floor and climbed down.

Halia never felt uglier than when she wore the hand-me-downs of her relatives, but her appearance was really the least of her problems.

Just as her foot left the last ladder rung, she was thrown to the floor abruptly. Dudley came shoving past her, racing like a mad cow down the stairs.

"Must have smelled the presents," she muttered under her breath, picking herself up.

Knowing her five minutes were almost up, Halia rushed to the first floor and into the kitchen. Grabbing a frying pan from the cupboard and bacon and eggs from the fridge, she began preparing breakfast.

Her relatives ignored her, much to her preference, as they watched their son tear open present after present.

After his new TV, gaming console, remote control car, and shiny blue bicycle, Dudley started rummaging through the open packages looking for unopened ones.

He began to sniff. "How many were there?"

His parents shared a look of confusion, mixed with apprehension.

"What do you mean diddy-kins?"

"How. Many. Presents."

It was meant as a question, but it came out as an angry demand.

Halia faded the conversation out once her cousin started wailing that he had less than last year; knowing fully well how the situation would end. Petunia would give in and buy him something else, if only to get him to shut up.

Breakfast was soon done, and Halia took her spot at the table silently. She was used to minding her own business; they acted like she didn't exist, and in return, she got left alone.

Several minutes of content peace passed by before it was ultimately interrupted by a loud bang against the front door.

Normally, that would signal their mail arriving.

However, it was Sunday and there was, normally, no post on Sundays.

Vernon looked at Halia. "Go find out what that was, would you?"

He asked it like a question, like she had a choice, but she knew she didn't. Standing up, shoving one last piece of bacon in her mouth, Halia walked out of the dining room and into the entryway.

One lonesome letter sat below the letter-chute on the front door. She kneeled down slowly, recognizing the name on it, before gingerly picking it up.

It was her name, and the address was very…specific.

 _Halia Potter_

 _Attic_

 _Number 4 Privet Drive_

 _Little Whinging, Surrey_

Glancing around quickly, she began sliding her nail through the opening. Before she could read it, however, the letter was snatched out of her hands. She didn't need to turn around to know who stood behind her; his overbearing presence was enough.

"It's made out to me, Uncle Vernon."

Halia turned around to face her uncle, ready to grab the letter back, but the look on his face stopped her. He was staring so hard at the emblem that held the letter closed that his face began to turn purple.

"Go to the attic. Now."

She wanted to argue, but didn't dare. Instead, she obliged his order and took the steps two at a time. Though she tried desperately to eavesdrop on her aunt and uncle, she could only make out the soft tone of conversation.

* * *

That was how she ended up tagging along for Dudley's "Rainforest Tour".

She would have much rather stayed at home by herself, at least then she wouldn't have had to deal with her cousin and his stupid little friend. It was always a finger in her face or a tug of her hair. Dudley even elbowed her in the side once; it was still sore to the touch.

But then, Halia reasoned with herself, at least she was able to enjoy the free snacks the tour guide handed out.

They were in a large cart with several other people, and all around them were trees that hung down and animal noises blending together. Just as she'd suspected, the rainforest was not a rainforest at all.

The trees weren't even tropical! When they did pass animals or reptiles, they were clearly in locked cages with minimal space to roam around. Halia tried to focus on the salty peanuts she popped in her mouth, one after the other, savoring the taste.

Suddenly, the cart stopped.

Everyone stood up and piled off, going in different directions. Apparently they were allowed to visit the different captives throughout the "rainforest" now. Halia seethed **.**

Still, she made her way off the cart and headed in the opposite direction of the others. Her aunt and uncle didn't seem to care, though she doubted they noticed at all.

It was after her third time circling what ended up being a very _small_ "rainforest" that she finally stopped in front of a cage that held – what looked like – a very curious boa constrictor. Unfortunately, her cousin and his _posse_ had the same idea.

"Are you talking to your own kind?" Dudley's friend teased.

Halia barely acknowledged him; a daft insult like that wasn't worth her time. Instead, she watched the reptile slither around its cage.

The movements it made as it darted back and forth were mesmerizing, but Dudley wasn't happy with just that. He grabbed onto the bars of the cage with his mighty fists and shook it like a snow globe.

"Knock it off!" Halia tried to push him away, but her cousin was more than three times her size.

Just before Dudley knocked her to the ground, she could've sworn she heard a slippery voice hiss, " _Ssssstupid human."_

But then there she was, on the ground, with her giant of a cousin shaking the bars again. Halia felt the anger swell inside of her; wished more than anything that she could physically hold her own in a fight.

She picked herself up just as Dudley fell forward. His friend screamed bloody murder and took off running in the opposite direction.

Halia looked at the boa constrictor as it slithered over her cousin; eyes wide and mouth agape. The bars were gone!

And now, the snake was sliding right towards her.

"Sorry about him," she whispered, hoping the reptile would leave her alone. "Please don't hurt me."

The boa constrictor stopped an arm's length away from her.

And then, just like that, the snake was gliding right past her. Halia felt its cool skin graze her ankles as it slid away.

She also could've sworn she heard the snake hiss at her as it passed by, " _Thankssss…._ "

Havoc was taking place all around her, yet Halia felt very calm. At least, she felt calm until she saw the look on her uncle's face as a terrified Dudley ran full speed towards him and Petunia.

Vernon was the first one to reach her, and when he spoke, his voice was dangerously low.

"Back to the car – as soon as we get home, it's straight to the attic! I don't want to hear a peep out of you for the next month! And no supper tonight!"


	4. Almost Drowning

_Chapter Three_

* * *

Sure enough, the next month was terribly boring for Halia. She was confined to her attic more than usual, and even surrendered to making dust pictures on the wooden floorboards with her fingers for fun.

The only other thing keeping her thoughts occupied was the mysterious letter that arrived for her on Dudley's birthday – especially because Halia was certain the letters were still coming!

Once in a while, she would catch a glimpse of that familiar emblem on the envelope as her uncle desperately tried to hide it.

The day before Halia's birthday was when things really became crazy.

They were eating breakfast as normal, Vernon looking especially pleased with his self. Petunia kept glancing at her husband, worried that he was losing his sanity.

"Darling, are you okay?"

"I'm glad you asked Petunia," he said, a fat smile on his face. "Today is my favorite day of the week…relaxing and fulfilling….and _even better_ , there's no post on Sundays!"

Halia looked up from her plate for the first time since sitting down. Her uncle really did look like he was going crazy; his hair unkempt and his eyes sunken in with restlessness.

She almost corrected her uncle, wanting to remind him that it was a Sunday the day the first letter came, but didn't have the heart – or didn't care enough – to actually say the words.

Just as she went to take another bite of her eggs, a loud noise startled everyone in the room. First, it was a loud banging on the closed off fireplace, then the windows – she looked out it – envelopes were pelting the house every which way!

It wasn't long before they were being flooded with the letters; Halia recognizing the colorful emblem in the center. She went to grab one, but the envelope was already floating into her open hands. Excitement filled her – she was finally going to find out who was writing her!

Just as she was about to pull the letter out, it was snatched from her hands. Again. And by the same person, too.

Only this time, instead of sending her to the attic, her uncle grabbed her wrist and dragged her out of the house at full speed. His wife and son clambered after them, following Vernon into the car without any questions asked.

Halia had been thrown into the back seat with ease, and found it best to just stay quiet and as small as possible while her uncle was on his tirade. Her curiosity was overwhelming, but she held it at bay for the time being.

No one asked Vernon where they were going, so needless to say, everyone was a little surprised when he pulled into the parking-lot of a motel. It was a dingy looking one, and a creepy old man was sitting outside one of the rooms with a chunky black cigar in his mouth.

Halia narrowed her eyes; wanting more than anything to be anywhere else on her birthday – which was in less than three hours! Vernon waddled out of the car.

They watched him walk into the main doors in silence; each wishing the same thing, most likely. It was only five minutes later that the boulder of a man came rushing out the double doors; his face turning a dark shade of purple and his chest wheezing in anger.

When he got back into the car, no one said a word. It stayed quiet even as he pulled the car out of the parking-lot and headed in an unknown direction.

But after several minutes, Vernon began muttering under his breath.

"They were everywhere…"

"Vernon, dear, what is it? What is going on?"

He ignored Petunia. "The room…filled…"

After that, they drove three more hours in complete silence.

The sky was starting to turn grey and angry; loud booms echoing around them. Halia could've sworn she saw lightning.

Apparently it was a perfect time to visit the ocean as well; her uncle slowing to a stop right outside the angry waves that danced across the shoreline.

"Everybody out!"

They all looked equally put out, but surrendered to Vernon's insanity nonetheless. Dudley was whining and breathing heavy; big ugly tears streaming down his face. Halia could only stand there, holding herself as the wind whipped her small frame.

Vernon led them closer to the water, and soon she noticed a dock in the thick fog…and then a man, next to a boat. He was wearing a yellow, rubbery raincoat that matched his teeth, and the smile he wore was very eerie.

Her uncle all but knocked him over. "I want you to take us out there!"

Halia looked at the direction his finger was pointed in. She held back the gasp that rose in her throat when her eyes landed on the small, beaten shack in the distance. It was surrounded by the water! They were in the middle of a storm! _Was he crazy?_

Before she could argue – or even say something – her uncle grabbed her roughly and threw her into the boat. Her aunt and cousin were already sitting there, awkwardly shivering in the cold.

She tried desperately to keep her tears at bay, but something in her was breaking. Still, they took off from the shore and set sail.

The wave that knocked their small boat over was very sudden, but the current that took Halia under was a slow agony. Her mouth was open; gasping for the air that wasn't there.

Instead, she swallowed rough and gritty salt water – could feel her lungs closing up; burning and aching. She heard splashes and yells, but no one grabbed for her.

Halia could've sworn her life was flashing before her eyes…a life that only made her angry. She had so much more to do – she was barely eleven! Just before they exited the car, she noticed the minutes turning to midnight on the dashboard.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Halia forced herself to swim.

It was no use though – she couldn't tell which way was up and which was down.

The seconds were passing like decades; she was positive she was a goner. And then, just as sudden as the wave that swept them into the water, Halia was being lifted from the depths of the ocean. An invisible – yet strong – force was pulling her up and up until the surface was barely an inch away.

It was right around that time that she lost consciousness.

* * *

Her eyelids were heavy when her conscious floated back to reality, but Halia was still quick to open them. She was in – what looked like – the musty old shack in the center of the ocean. Rolling on her side, she noticed her relatives cowering in the corner of the room; Vernon holding a plank of wood out, like a weapon.

It was then that Halia realized the giant figure hiding in the shadows. Her insides clenched with fear.

"Hello?"

The figure stepped into the light – it was a man! A giant man! He was five times the size of Halia, and even bigger around. His face was barely visible under scruffs of black hair and beard, but his smile was warm and friendly and it was directed at her.

"Mus' be Halia," he said, taking a booming step towards her. "I'm Rubeus Hagrid – grounds keeper a' Hogwarts. You can jus' call me Hagrid."

She felt especially small under his stare. And then confused. "Hogwart? What's a Hogwart?"

Halia was sure she would never want a Hogwart, whatever it could be. The giant man, Hagrid, seemed speechless for a moment. Then, he turned his now angry stare to the Dursleys'.

"Don' know what Hogwarts is – what's the meaning of this, Dursley!?"

Vernon took a very brave step forward, brandishing his makeshift weapon. "I won't have someone in my household going to that crack pot school!"

"You hav' some nerve – crack pot school?! Tha's where Lily and James learned it all!"

Halia's interest was piqued at the mention of her parents. "Learned what?"

Vernon blew her question into the wind. "I won't have it! Leave immediately and tell that nut head of a headmaster to stop sending us those letters! That girl will go to a normal school, far away from the influence her wretched parents fell under!"

Hagrid blew his lid. "Never insult Albus Dumbledore in front of me! It's because of him an' Halia's parents that yer even living in a safe world right now. They died protectin' Halia, an' now it's her turn!"

"Excuse me! What do you mean they died protecting me? My mum and dad were killed in a car crash!"

The giant's face was growing redder as her uncle's face grew purple. Hagrid seemed to grow in size; the anger seething from him.

"What hav' you lot done – keeping somthin' like this a secret from her?"

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?"

All eyes landed on Halia. Her heart was beating fast, but her need for information burned brighter. Hagrid's expression grew calm and even sad.

"Lily an' James wen' to Hogwarts School o' Witchcraft an' Wizardry – were two'a the best witches an' wizards of their generation. They died protectin' you from a very evil, very dark wizard."

Halia's mouth was agape. "Witches? And wizards? I don't understand…"

Hagrid stood a foot away from her now; reaching out to pat her on the shoulder. His expression was warm.

"Yer a witch, Halia."

Her heart all but stopped.

"She is not a witch! She is a human and will be raised as such!" Petunia spoke for the first time. "We will not pay to get her through that kind of a school!"

"Nonsense," Hagrid immediately brushed off her aunt's words. "Les' go, Halia. Dumbledore's instructed me to take ya to Diagon Alley teh get school supplies."

Halia was so excited at the possibility of being a witch that she'd forgotten everything else that happened that night – including almost drowning. It was when she stood up, drenched head to toe, that she remembered.

"Did you save me?"

Hagrid only smiled at her. "Can' have you drownin' a month away from yer firs' year at Hogwarts, can we?"

She beamed. "Thank you!"

To be completely honest, Halia wasn't quite certain her aunt and uncle would have saved her otherwise. And Dudley? Surely not.

* * *

Hagrid took her to – what he called – a safe-house. She was allowed to sleep in as late as she wanted, and when she woke up, breakfast was already made and ready!

She couldn't remember the last time someone treated her with kindness, let alone the fatherly (and almost motherly) attitude that Hagrid put on. It almost seemed too good to be true.

Halia watched as Hagrid loaded over a dozen pancakes onto his plate, and then several for her. Along with the sausages and eggs, it was the heaviest meal she'd eaten in…probably her entire eleven years!

Just as she finished swallowing, a thought struck her.

"Hagrid, I haven't got any money to buy school supplies…"

The man only laughed at her. "Yeh think Lily an' James wouldn' leave money behind fer their daughter?"

She took that into consideration; wondering just how much her aunt and uncle never shared with her. Finding out her parents were murdered…as opposed to dying in a car crash…Halia was still wrapping her mind around that.

If she thought about it too much, it would only upset her. She changed the subject.

"When are we leaving?"

Hagrid pulled a smushed envelope from his jacket. "Can' have you goin' to Diagon Alley without reading yer letter, can we?"

She'd forgotten about the letter! Grabbing it from his hands almost greedily, she ripped it open and pulled out its contents. There was a piece of parchment congratulating her on her acceptance to the Wizarding School, followed by a list of school supplies.

Her stomach was in knots…but for once, the good kind.

"Ready, then?"

Halia grinned. "Most definitely!"


	5. Diagon Alley

_Chapter Four_

* * *

Hagrid led her to a pub in downtown London called the Leaky Cauldron. All around them, people were walking at fast paces; not one of them even glanced towards the pub. She wondered why, as the building was hard to miss…Halia wasn't sure if that was a good thing or bad thing, either.

"Muggles don' notice it," Hagrid spoke up, as if reading her thoughts.

"What's a muggle?"

He chuckled. "Is what your aunt an' uncle are – non-magical folks."

Halia didn't get the chance to say anything else; Hagrid was already leading her into the, surprisingly, crowded pub. Once they were off the streets of the pacing "muggles", it was easy to see just how many magical folk took up residence in the Leaky Cauldron.

"By golly – is that?"

Hagrid turned towards the voice, causing Halia to follow his lead. The man who spoke was behind the bar, but his eyes were resting solely on her.

"Sure is, Tom," replied Hagrid as he pressed his hand down on Halia's shoulder. "Lil' ol' Halia is off ter her first year at Hogwarts."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," said Tom, grabbing at her hands. "I've heard so much about you – of course, we all have. Merlin blesses us – Halia Potter is finally going to Hogwarts!"

When the barkeep spoke the last words, his voice loud, everyone in the pub turned to them. At first, it was silent. Halia could've heard a pin drop.

And then, everyone started speaking all at once. There were wizards shouting and witches pushing, and Halia was slightly alarmed to realize they were all focused on her. Automatically, she stepped behind Hagrid; shielding her body from the mass crowd of strangers.

The burly man cleared his throat. "STEP ASIDE – MOVE IT ALONG!"

At the very least, the surrounding people took a tentative step back. Hagrid, obviously not completely successful, continued,

"Ye better back off, ya hear? We're on official Hogwarts business, as ordered by Dumbledore himself!" He looked at Halia. "An' this is Halia's first time in Diagon Alley, so please be kind 'er nuff to let us through…"

No one moved, though a few had the nerve to look guilty. Hagrid's resolve waivered, causing Halia's stomach to sink. She prepared herself for the onslaught of people.

"At ther very least, make it quick!"

And with that, the witches and wizards pushed past Hagrid and started speaking to her all at once.

"You look just like your mother," said one wizard, who was immediately interrupted by a witch who said she had her father's hair.

The comments were all the same, and feeling anxious as it was, all Halia could do was force a smile and nod. Just when the crowd started dispersing – and for just a moment, she felt relieved – another person approached her.

He was dressed in blue and green robes, but the most notable things about him was the turban on his head and the way his voice quivered when he addressed her.

"Ms.…P-P-Potter, what a p-p-pleasure sure to finally m-m-meet your acquaintance."

Hagrid smiled at the man, apparently familiar with him. "Halia, this is Per'fessor Quirrel – he'll be teaching yer Defense Against the Dark Arts class." He turned back to the Professor, barely giving Halia time to smile at him before continuing, "Sorry Quirrel, but we're tryin' ter make good time here, so if yeh will let us through…"

The giant of a man didn't wait for a response, instead pushing through to the back of the pub with Halia following quickly behind. She did, however, hear her future Professor wish them farewell.

Vaguely, she felt a weird twinge of pain from the scar on her forehead. She pushed it to the back of her mind though; wanting to put her everything into enjoying the outing to this "Diagin Alley" that Hagrid kept telling her about.

Halia couldn't have been more relieved when they stepped outside of the pub, instead finding a more peaceful presence standing in front of…a brick wall?

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but her lips stayed pursed in silence.

Hagrid took a pink umbrella out of nowhere; most likely hidden in the giant jacket he wore. Halia watched as he hit different bricks in a weird pattern that obviously made sense, as immediately after, the wall spread apart to reveal a bustling, crowded alley of witches and wizards.

This must be their destination, then.

* * *

As the duo retreated a towering, grand building called Gringotts – or the wizarding world's bank, as Hagrid had explained to her – Halia could feel the heavy coins sinking lower in her pocket. The money that witches and wizards used was very different than the bills she'd seen her aunt with.

In her mind, she could picture the bronze, silver, and golden coins perfectly. To be completely honest, Halia was sure she preferred the pretty coins to the papery material the other money was made from.

Or maybe, she just liked watching the goblins working as opposed to the stern-faced ladies that Aunt Petunia always complained about. Sure, the goblins also seemed to be quite stern…but they were so fun to watch!

About a yard away from the bank, Hagrid stopped completely.

"A'right, Halia, I got, er, some business ter take care of," the giant man said. "What say we meet over there—" Hagrid pointed to what looked like an ice cream shop, "In, say, er hour or so? I'll treat yer to some ice cream before we leave."

A minute later, Halia was left alone.

For a moment, the overwhelming sense of what to do next consumed her. Instinctively, she did a spin on the spot; taking in all of the different shops. A few kids around her age ran past her, laughing and shouting to one another.

She really had never felt more at home in the middle of a crowded alley.

Putting a smile on her face, Halia decided her first stop would be the closest – a book store called Flourish and Blotts. She thought they must have at least some of the books on her list.

Her pace started out as a walk, but the excitement surging through her soon caused her cautious steps to turn into a full-fledged run. Rounding the corner of the cobblestone, Halia let out a startled shriek when she collided with something quite solid.

Looking up, she let out a very audible gulp as she realized the solid mass was none other than a very annoyed looking boy.

"I'm so sorry," she started, picking herself up. "I just got excited – I wasn't paying attention to where I was going – are you okay? You're not hurt are you?"

The boy only stared at her with cold, dark blue eyes. His black, messy hair was not unlike her own. Halia couldn't help but notice the blue in his eyes was so dark, his pupils almost blended in completely!

Just when she started fearing for her safety, another person appeared behind the boy. This man was tall and definitely older – maybe older than Hagrid, even.

"Are you making friends, Tom?" The man looked between the two of them.

Very slowly, the boy turned around to look at the man. Not even a second later, he started walking away; brushing past Halia without saying a single word.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" The man spoke to her now. "He's still…getting used to living in this world."

Halia was quick to brush off the question. "No, no – it was me! I was in such a hurry…I was excited. I'm also new to this…world. It was completely my fault."

The man stared at her for a minute, a look of intense thought on his face. Then, like Halia noticed at the pub with the other people, his expression changed to shock when his eyes slithered across the scar on her forehead.

"You must be Halia Potter," he said, his shock turning to kindness. "My name is Remus Lupin…I knew your parents back in school. They would be thrilled to know their daughter is finally attending Hogwarts."

Halia felt her heart stop. "You knew my parents?"

She wanted to know more – she wanted to know _everything_. Unfortunately, shortly after her question, the man turned his attention to the boy who was now approaching them once again.

"I'm ready to leave," he said simply; voice still dead.

Remus Lupin looked at Halia with an apology on the tip of his tongue, but she waved him off. The boy was terrifying, if you asked her. She didn't want any excuse to make him angry.

"We will meet again, I'm sure." Remus said, before hurrying after the boy who was, once again, leaving.

Halia was left with hundreds of questions – all about her parents – but took Remus' word that they'd meet again. In the meantime, she was finally able to make it inside the bookstore.

Always a fan of books - though, mostly fantasy fiction – Halia was ecstatic at the prospect of fantasy non-fiction…fantasy non-fiction that she'd be learning herself!

Grabbing all of the books from the list and checking out, Halia began to regret her choice of grabbing the books first. She was struggling with the huge pile, almost dropping one, when a hand reached out and caught it.

Looking up, she gazed into the face of a very amused younger man. He looked to be 3 or maybe 4 years older than her. He was very handsome, and immediately she felt flustered.

"I made the same mistake my first year," he said, grabbing the huge pile of books from her tiny arms. "Here, try this…" The boy pulled out his wand and mumbled some words, pointing at the books as he did. Halia was wide-eyed as her books shrunk to pocket-size.

He handed them back to Halia, who quickly shoved them in her pocket. She suddenly felt very aware of the ugly hand-me-downs she wore. "T-thanks…are you a student at Hogwarts, then?"

The boy smiled. "I'll be starting my fourth year – name is Cedric."

Halia beamed. "Nice to meet you, Cedric," she said, grinning. "My name is Halia."

For a brief moment, recognition flashed across his face. Just as quickly, however, it was replaced with friendliness. "Nice to meet you too. I'll see you around, then?"

She nodded vigorously, and waved at him as he made his way to a store that carried what looked like…broomsticks… For a moment she was puzzled, wondering if witches and wizards really did ride around on brooms like in the books she read.

Halia shook herself out of it though – she had to get back on track! Hagrid would be at the ice cream shop in less than an hour and she'd only just gotten out of her first stop!

Rushing forward, but not quite running (she didn't want another scary boy scenario), Halia stopped in front of a shop called Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. The building was small and cozy, with a waiting room attached to the fitting room.

There was already a girl getting fitted, so Halia made her way over to the waiting area. About to take a seat, she was surprised when a woman came bustling through, pushing and nudging her towards the platform next to the other girl.

"Hogwarts, yes?" The woman asked her.

Halia nodded, and the woman ran off. For a second, the silence was deafening. Then, the girl who stood on the other platform turned to her.

"My name is Hermione Granger, and you are?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by the woman returning. She began poking and prodding Halia, fitting several different robes (that all looked the same) to her small figure. When the woman took a break, the girl called Hermione turned back to Halia.

"I can tell by your robes that you'll be going to Hogwarts – so will I. I was quite surprised when I found out I was a witch – the headmistress came to tell me herself – but now it seems expected. I've already read through all of our texts once, and I'm starting on Hogwarts, A History next. What house do you hope you'll be in?"

House? Halia didn't know anything about a house, and was once again cut off from answering by the return of the woman. She handed Hermione a pile of clothes. The girl turned to Halia.

"I suppose I'll see you on the train, then."

She said nothing else as she disappeared out of the store and Halia was left alone to endure more pokes and pins. "Are you Madam Malkin?"

The woman stopped what she was doing to stare at Halia. "Yes, and you are Halia Potter."

Halia nodded; obviously already aware of her own identity. Madam Malkin was a tall, curvy woman with dark brown hair that fell in ringlets around her heart-shaped face. She wore beautiful deep purple robes, and had eyes that matched Halia's in their green depth.

The next question Halia asked, she knew would be embarrassing. "Well, you see…I was raised with muggles…I don't have any clothes of my own…just these—" She gestured at her hand-me-downs. "Do you offer any normal clothing that I can purchase?"

Madam Malkin almost looked sympathetic, before her expression turned into determination. "Nasty muggles, they must be. Sure…I'd heard the rumors, but I never thought… Of course, dear. My advice, however, would be to wait and see what house you are sorted in. Here, let me get you my card…"

She disappeared for a second, before coming back with a small card that had her name and address typed on it. Halia didn't even have time to wonder, once again, what she meant when she said house and sorted.

"Once you've been sorted, go ahead and send me an owl – I'll send you some regular and house-inspired clothes – free of charge for your first year – but you better make a habit of seeing me when you grow out of them."

Halia opened her mouth, ready to argue; she could pay! She had plenty of money! Madam Malkin gestured for her to shut her trap, though. "Nonsense, I know what you're going to say. It's the least I can do to welcome you to the wizarding world. Now here you are."

The woman handed Halia a pile of clothes, much like Hermione's, that consisted of summer and winter robes, grey pleated skirts, grey blouses, and several other varieties of the Hogwarts uniform.

She barely had time to say thank you before the energetic Madam was pushing her out of the shop, all the while reminding her to send an owl after she'd been sorted.

Halia didn't have time to ask where she would get an owl from, either.

The next few stops went by in a blur; Hagrid would be expecting her soon, so she was trying to hurry. At last, her final stop was the one she was most excited for – Ollivander's. Halia couldn't wait to get her wand, from the second Hagrid told her that wizards and witches did, in fact, carry wands (not umbrellas).

Upon entering, her heart skipped a beat. There was no one there! Would she not get her wand, simply because someone was on lunch or taking a break? Before she could start to hyperventilate, a raspy cough echoed the small store.

Halia whipped around to face the counter, and was startled to see a short, old man almost hidden behind the pile of wand boxes sitting in front of him.

"You must be Halia Potter," he said, his voice raspy. "My, how long I've waited for this day…to finally give you your very own wand…please, come closer."

She approached the front counter, only to jump slightly when a floating tape measure started taking measurements. It did her arms, her legs, the distance from her hands to the floor, the distance between one hand to the other, and so on and so forth.

The first wand Ollivander gave to her ended up exploding a nearby wall of all the boxes it held. He quickly snatched the wand away from her. The one after that singed part of the old man's beard off. He took that one as well.

Just when Halia started losing faith – maybe she really _wasn't_ a witch? – Ollivander slowed down his movements and glanced at her. "I wonder…"

What? What did he wonder? Halia wanted to know!

Instead, he simply wandered over to the opposite side of the wall, and grabbed the last box on the shelf. Carrying it over to her, Ollivander gently took it from the box and handed it to her.

Holding back a sigh, Halia waved the sixteenth wand around, expecting similar reactions as the last ones. Instead, she was surprised when her entire body illuminated a dark purple. She could feel her hair lifting off her shoulders, and a power that was so strong filled her up until she thought she might be sick with anticipation.

"My, my…how curious…" Ollivander grabbed the wand from Halia, and put it back in the box. "I believe we found your wand, Ms. Potter."

Halia watched him intently. "Why is it curious?"

The old man met her eyes. "Because the phoenix feather in this wand was given by a phoenix that only had three feathers to give. It's quite curious how the first wand belongs to the very same dark wizard that gave you that scar."

She paused; not sure how to feel. "And the third?"

Ollivander looked hesitant, before his face closed off completely. "That'll be seven sickles, please."

Halia wanted to know what he was talking about – who the other wand went to – but he was so quick to take her money and push her out of his shop that she didn't have the chance to question further. Heaving a sigh, the young witch took off in the direction of the ice cream parlor instead.

She barely made it two feet in the direction when she tripped over something that immediately let out a nasty hiss. Dropping to her knees, Halia picked up the cat she'd stepped on and started stroking it.

"I'm so sorry pretty little kitty," she cooed. "I didn't see you there? What were you doing in the middle of the alley?"

The cat was a beautiful white color with black and brown spots. Halia thought its ears were a bit larger than usual – for cats, at least. One quick look at its underside told that the feline was a female, and Halia continued to feed it sweet nothings.

But, too soon, she realized she _really_ needed to get to that ice cream parlor and put the cat down. She almost didn't notice when the cat simply started following her, but by the time Halia did make it to the ice cream parlor…the cat was barely an inch off her heels.

Hagrid was waiting for her at a table, two ice cream cones in his large hands and a giant cage with a…owl inside of it sitting on the ground next to him. The owl, much like the cat following her, was a beautiful white with flecks of black.

"Sorry I'm late, Hagrid!"

He waved her off immediately. "Nonsense, wasn' here very long. I see yer got a new friend," he gestured to the cat. "Thas a beautiful kneazle if I've ever seen one."

"Kneazle?" Halia looked at the cat.

"One er the smartest animals there is, that's fer sure. But now yer gunna have two pets to take care of."

She looked at the cat – kneazle – that stared back up at her. "But she's not mine, Hagrid. I can't just take home an animal that's not mine!"

Hagrid shook his head. "Kneazles don' have owners, _they_ own the witch er wizard o' their choosin'. Very prestigious animals. An' if I say so myself, I think this one has picked ye fer its family."

Halia looked away from her apparent new family of animals and stared at Hagrid. "Who was the wizard that killed my parents, Hagrid? And how did I get this scar?"

He looked startled for a moment, before quickly shaking himself out of it. "I ser'pose yeh best find out before yer thrown into a school of kids who already know…Well, he was the darkest wizard of your parents age – maybe even of all time. Very bright wizard…'til he turned bad, that is. One night he came after yer parents and yeh, and they both died protecting you…and then, ter the amazement of witches and wizards everywhere, when he tried ter kill ya too…the spell rebounded off. Yeh destroyed the evilest wizard as just er baby, Halia. S'why yer so famous."

Halia took a moment to let his words sink in. Still, her curiosity itched for more information.

"What was his name?"

Hagrid looked scared for a moment, before looking sheepish. "No' many people call him by his name – most call him He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named – but…just this once…his real name is V-V-Voldemort."

Voldemort? Why was so much fear reliant upon one name? Halia realized she might not want to know, really.

For the rest of the time, they ate their ice cream while suggesting names for both of her new pets.


	6. The Hogwarts Express

_Chapter Five_

* * *

Despite being back on Privet Drive, Halia was filled with excitement. There was less than two weeks left before she'd head off for her first year of Hogwarts. In the meantime, the Dursleys' kept their distance from her in fear of magic.

She hadn't bothered explaining to them that magic was forbidden to those under the age of 17.

On the other hand, Halia also felt immensely less alone. She'd named her owl Hedwig after Saint Hedwig of Andechs – a duchess of Silesia, who was also a patron of orphans. She also thought that because Hedwig meant female warrior in Norwegian that the name fit her new family member even more.

Her other new family member was named Athena, after the Goddess of Wisdom. Halia thought this was a perfect choice because Hagrid had said kneazles were one of the smartest animals alive. She'd also done some brief reading of them in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them – a book she'd picked up from Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley. Apparently they were very, very wise.

While she patiently waited for the start of term, Halia found solace in reading her textbooks; at least they offered some form of comfort. In the back of her mind, she was reminded of Hermione.

Halia could only hope the knowledge she was gaining wouldn't reflect poorly in her personality. She wanted to make as many friends as possible!

The day was finally here! Halia would be sleeping in unfamiliar territory for the first time in her life (at least as far as she could remember)!

For some reason, the Dursleys seemed all-to-eager to bring her to King's Cross Station that morning. Honestly though, she was too excited to give it much thought. Her heart was beating overtime.

It wasn't until her relatives were speeding away from the station that she realized why, exactly, they were in such high spirits.

 _Where was platform 9 ¾?_

Halia's attention was pulled lower, feeling Athena pawing at her loose trousers (another hand-me-down from Petunia). "What is it, girl?"

The kneazle trotted ahead of Halia, stopping every few steps to make sure her human was following. Eventually, Athena stopped in front of a solid barrier between platforms 9 and 10. Halia stopped next to her, staring at the solid brick with a puzzled expression.

Athena pawed at the barrier, letting out a soft " _murfow_ ".

"Is that a kneazle?"

Halia jumped at least three feet in the air, and whirled around to see the boy – Cedric? – From Diagon Alley. The same boy who'd shrunk her books for her.

"She sure is," Halia replied happily. "You wouldn't happen to know how to get onto the platform, would you?"

Cedric let out a hearty laugh. "Yeah, it's a bit confusing for first years raised in muggle homes. I'm impressed your pet managed to get you this far."

Halia corrected him. "Oh no, she's not my pet. If anything, I'm hers."

He smiled at her. "And that's why she chose you as her human."

The subject soon changed back to the platform, and Halia watched as Cedric showed her how to get on. He simply ran straight for the barrier that Athena had led her to, not slowing down for impact, when he disappeared out of thin air!

Athena let out another _murfow._

She was hesitant, but what did she have to lose? Cedric didn't seem like the type to try and prank her…

"Well, all right then," she mumbled, earning a paw to the leg from the kneazle. "Here we go…"

Hedwig let out a soft coo as Halia backed up and started at a run for the barrier, copying Cedric. She squeezed her eyes shut, less than an inch from impact, before opening them when a lack of crash registered.

She gasped. Cedric hadn't pranked her!

A giant, beautifully crimson train with the words _Hogwarts Express_ painted on it in black was resting on the tracks. All around her, kids of all ages with all different kinds of pets rushed through. There were parents hugging their loved ones goodbye, and friends meeting up and hugging after a summer apart.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Halia turned around, smiling at Cedric who had waited for her. "Not at all, thank you."

He smiled at her one last time before disappearing to meet his friends. If it hadn't been for Athena and Hedwig, Halia thought she would definitely feel lonely.

But she had them, and she didn't feel lonely. At least, not too much.

Fighting her way onto the train (but not literally), Halia managed to find an empty compartment. After opening the sliding door so Athena and Hedwig could get comfy, Halia moseyed back into the corridor to put her trunk away.

The struggle was real though, because it seemed like she was just short enough to not reach the top compartment. Giving a little jump to try and shove it up there, she was – once again – surprised to find a helping pair of hands. Or, in this case, two pairs of helping hands.

Turning around, Halia found herself staring at two identical strangers.

They both had red hair and freckles, and pretty blue eyes that twinkled like they were up to no good.

She grinned; sheepish. "Thanks for the help."

"Anytime – we can't having the ickle little firsties struggling on their first train ride to Hogwarts—"

"—Can we?"

Halia was somewhat amused to see that they finished each other's sentences so easily. Running a hand through her hair, she was about to say something in response but was interrupted.

One of the twins let out a colorful swear, and Halia realized she must've uncovered her scar.

"Blimey, are you…"

"…Halia Potter?"

She looked back and forth between the two. "Yeah, I am. Who are you?"

They both grinned, introducing themselves as "Fred—" and "—George" respectively. Halia was about to ask them more questions – like what year they were in and what house – but they were tugged away by the shouting of an older, red-haired woman.

Judging by the similarities, Halia figured it was their mother.

They both gave her sheepish grins before excusing themselves. Instead of watching them leave, she finally entered her compartment and began to get comfortable. Hedwig let out an angry coo at being locked up, but Athena quietly jumped on top of the owl's cage and curled up.

Halia giggled at the look on Hedwig's face (or at least what she thought was a look).

Turning her attention out the window, her eyes found the red-haired family in question. There were five of them – the twins, a younger boy, an older boy, and a younger girl. All of them had fiery red hair and blue eyes, at least from what she could see.

The little girl was crying, saying how badly she wanted to go to Hogwarts. Her mum told her not until next year. The little girl cried harder, until one of the twins spoke up and mentioned meeting "Halia Potter" on the train.

"You leave that poor girl alone," their mother scolded them. "She's got enough to worry about – she definitely don't have time to deal with your obnoxious staring and questions!"

The little girl wiped her tears. "H-Halia Potter is on the train?"

The twins looked excited that at least someone was interested. "Sure was, Ginny. Still find it weird that your celebrity crush is a girl, but—"

"We met her so we know for a fact she is going to Hogwarts this year – which means she'll be there next year, when you start, as well."

The younger boy seemed interested, though he stayed quiet. The older one merely rolled his eyes. Halia felt her cheeks get hot when the twins mentioned their sister's "celebrity crush". Girls liking girls? Her aunt and uncle would've been scandalized.

The little girl, Ginny, was now crying again – only this time it was because her mum wouldn't let her on the train to meet Halia – for which she greatly appreciated. Halia didn't have time to entertain people with her scar when she was too focused on the road ahead!

Turning her attention back to her kneazle and owl, she smiled softly to herself when she took in the sight of Athena fast asleep on top of Hedwig's cage; one paw falling through the bars. Hedwig was also sleeping, cooing so gently in her sleep that you almost didn't hear it.

Just when she considered taking a nap as well, the door to her compartment slid open. In the entrance stood the younger red-haired boy from the family Halia had been watching. He looked quite shy.

"Do you mind if we share? All the others are full."

"No, of course not!" Halia quickly moved to the other side of the compartment, sitting next to the animals. "Please, come in!"

The boy settled in across from Halia, pulling out a plastic-wrapped sandwich from his pocket that looked rather squished. He made a face at it. Halia did too.

"What _is_ that?"

He looked up from his sandwich to meet Halia's outraged stare. "Ham and peanut butter."

She scrunched her face up, and then – almost as if to taunt him – a woman baring a large trolley filled with snacks slid open the compartment door.

"Anything from the trolley, dears?"

Halia took one look at the boy's gross sandwich and one look at the wide variety of delicious goodies. "I'll take two of everything, please."

The woman took Halia's gold coins – Hagrid called them galleons – and handed over a large quantity of junk food. "We can share," she told the boy as the compartment slid closed. "Honestly, I don't mind."

The boy hesitantly took – what looked like – a licorice wand. He unwrapped it and took a bite. Halia followed his example.

"So what's your name?" the boy asked through a mouthful of food.

Halia stopped chewing, suddenly dreading her answer. "Halia…Halia Potter, and you?"

The boy at least had the decency to mask his shock, though his next question was a bit rude. "Can I see your scar?"

She rolled her eyes, but moved her hair anyway.

"Wicked," he huffed, staring in amazement. "My name is Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley."

Halia was happy to see his attention divert back to the mountains of snacks they were consuming; pulling open a "chocolate frog" for herself. A tiny shriek escaped her lips when the frog jumped from the package, causing Ron to laugh.

"They usually only have one good jump in them," he explained, reaching for it. He was too slow though, as the frog made it to the window and managed to get sucked out of it. "Rotten luck."

Halia shrugged it off and grabbed a cauldron cake instead. Chocolate or not, eating a frog that had been moving not two seconds earlier would've made her a bit squeamish.

Ron chose that moment to bite off the head of another squirming chocolate frog, before opening his mouth (without swallowing).

"What house do you hope to be in? My entire family has been sorted into Gryffindor…I'll be good with anything s' long as it's not Slytherin."

Halia scrunched her face at the mouthful of chewed chocolate, but her curiosity was once again piqued at the mention of Hogwarts Houses. "I haven't even heard of houses," she said honestly. "What are they for?"

Ron stared at her in disbelief, before shaking his head. "Right, right, I keep forgetting you were raised with muggles. Bloody shame that is," he looked thoughtful for a moment. "Hogwarts has four houses, but the only two worth mentioning are Gryffindor and Slytherin. Gryffindor is the home of the brave – or at least that's what my mum tells me. And as for Slytherin… there hasn't been a witch or wizard in Slytherin that hasn't gone bad."

Halia didn't bother telling him that she was interested in the other two houses as well – what if she ended up in a house that wasn't Gryffindor…because now she was sure she didn't want to be in Slytherin!

"How are we sorted?"

He shrugged. "Haven't got a clue, though my older brothers – Fred and George – told me we have to fight a troll."

She narrowed her eyes. For some reason, Halia found that hard to believe. She was about to say so when the door of their compartment slid open once again, interrupting her.

This time it wasn't the trolley lady, but instead a group of three boys. Two of them looked burly and slightly terrifying, but the one in the middle was obviously their "leader". He was, after all, the only one that would meet her eyes.

The boy was short, maybe even shorter than Halia, with white-blonde hair and icy blue eyes. His face was pinched together in a very aristocratic way.

"Word has it that Halia Potter is on the train," he began, staring directly at her scar. "That must be you. I'm Draco – Draco Malfoy."

Halia already didn't like this boy; if only because he wouldn't take his eyes off her forehead. Slowly, she pushed her bangs back over her scar.

"Okay?" Halia didn't know what he wanted her to say.

Ron snorted, causing Halia to smile slightly. The Draco boy obviously didn't like that very much, as his attention was soon on Ron. "Find that funny, do you?"

Ron didn't answer, so the boy continued. "No need to ask who you are…red hair, hand-me-down robes, and a stupid complexion…obviously a Weasley."

Halia glanced at Ron, watching his face slowly growing redder. Draco turned back to her.

"You shouldn't be hanging around with blood traitors like the Weasley's. Why don't you come back to our compartment, and I'll give you the low-down on who's worth befriending and who…isn't." He looked back at Ron when he said the last part.

Now Halia could feel her face getting red with anger, probably looking very similar to Ron's.

"I have a better idea," Halia said, her voice rising with her temper. "Why don't you shove off, Malfoy? I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thank you very much."

Draco looked scandalized, but quickly changed his expression to irate. "You'll regret that choice, Potter. Just wait. Before you know it, you'll be crawling back to me."

Halia looked disgusted. "No thanks. Bye now."

The three stooges were out of the compartment before Halia got the last two words out, but Ron still burst out laughing after they were gone.

"That was brilliant," he choked out, slapping his knee. "I don't think Malfoy expected that from the Girl-Who-Lived."

Halia froze mid-laughter. "Ron, please don't call me that. You're my friend, so please call me Halia."

Ron looked startled. "We're friends?"

She was filled with doubt. "Unless you don't want to be friends…I just thought—"

"Of course, I'd love to be friends!" He cut her off, grinning. "Anyone who stands up to Malfoy like that is a friend, at least in my book."

Halia grinned back, about to reply when the compartment door slid open… _again_. Heaving a sigh, she turned towards the intruder, getting ready to tell Malfoy where he could shove his wand.

But it wasn't Malfoy. In fact, Halia recognized the girl as the one she met at Madam Malkin's – Hermione, was it?

"Oh, it's you," Hermione said rudely, looking at Halia. "A boy named Neville has lost his pet toad, Trevor, have you seen him?"

The only thing resembling a toad that Halia had seen was the chocolate frogs they'd bought, and she was sure none of those were Trevor. She was getting ready to tell Hermione this, but the girl's attention was diverted elsewhere.

"That's a kneazle," she said, staring at Athena. "Where did you find a kneazle? None of the pet shops in Diagon Alley will sell them because kneazles are very sophisticated animals. They can't be owned."

Halia refrained from rolling her eyes. "Athena chose me. She was taking up residence in Diagon Alley, and must have thought it was time for a change of scenery."

Hermione seemed to accept this as an answer. "I read in one of the extra books I picked up that kneazles react positively to people who nurture them. Do you mind if I try out a spell I've been practicing? It's a water-summoning incantation based off the Aguamenti charm."

Halia didn't even know what that meant, but she didn't have to reply anyway. Ron chose that moment to make his presence known.

"The Aguamini charm isn't even that hard to do!" Ron looked put-out. "My little sister could do that charm if she wanted to."

Hermione studied Ron for a moment. "And you are?"

He was hesitant. "Ron…Ron Weasley."

"Hmm, never heard of you." Halia thought that was quite a rude thing to say, but Hermione continued. "All right, then. If you think it's so easy, let's see you try it."

Halia watched Athena, who was studying the other two in the compartment. When she turned back to Halia, she could've sworn the kneazle rolled her eyes.

Ron, obviously not willing to back down, took out his wand. "All right, no problem. Do you have something to put the water in?"

He'd addressed Halia with the last question. "Yeah, hold on," she said, getting up. "It's in my trunk."

Sliding into the hallway, she was standing on her tip toes – _so close to reaching her trunk!_ – When the entire thing came falling down on her. She fell backward, but instead of hitting the floor of the train, she landed on something soft and cushiony (but very solid).

Groaning, she vaguely heard the door of her compartment opening, and both Ron and Hermione asking if she was okay. Instead of answering them however, she rolled off of whoever she landed on and turned around to apologize.

She was greeted by a seething boy…the same one she'd run into on her visit to Diagon Alley. Halia felt her stomach twist in anxiety. "I am so sorry," she whispered, fearful.

The boy picked himself up, dusting off his slacks. "Watch where you're going, stupid girl."

Halia watched the boy's retreating figure; picking herself up as well.

"What a bloody rude git," Ron mumbled, glaring at his back. "First Malfoy and now this jerk…just how many rude blokes will we have to deal with?"

Halia shrugged; thinking she'd rather not talk about it. Instead, she pulled Athena's water dish from her trunk and handed it to Ron. The three of them wandered back into the compartment, and Ron pointed his want at the bowl saying, " _Aguamini!"_

Instead of water filling the bowl, a straight jet shot out of his wand and hit Athena right in the face. She let out an angry hiss, and jumped from the top of Hedwig's cage onto Halia's lap. The kneazle wiggled her way into the girl's sweater, hiding herself from both Ron and Hermione.

Halia sighed, holding the shaking animal to her chest. "I think that's enough for right now."

Hermione sent a dirty look towards Ron, but turned back to Halia. "I don't think I caught your name…"

"Halia Potter," she said quickly, just wanting to get it over with.

The other girl's eyes went wide, and Halia could see Ron rolling his (even though his reaction was very similar).

"I've read about you!"

Halia paled. "I'm in a book?"

"Several of them, actually," Hermione continued, oblivious to Halia's discomfort. "But we'd better hurry up and change into our robes; we'll be arriving very soon."

She chose that moment to leave Ron and Halia to their own devices; much to the relief of the two friends. Halia thought Hermione was fairly rude, even if she wasn't trying to be.

But, still, she'd been right. They were almost to Hogwarts.

"I wonder what house I'll be sorted in," she mused out loud.


	7. The Sorting

_Chapter Six_

* * *

They retreated off the train; huddled in the middle of the large group of students. Halia gripped Ron's robes tightly, not wanting to lose him. She'd already felt antsy at leaving Athena and Hedwig in the express (they'd been informed that their belongings and pets would be moved during the sorting).

It was raining quite strongly outside, whipping the small first-years back and forth. Halia could make out a giant figure in the distance, and though she couldn't see his face, she was almost positive it was Hagrid. Who else could be that large?

The closer they got, the more visible the large man became. He spotted Halia almost immediately.

"Firs' years over here! Firs' years, this way! Hullo there, Halia! Excited fer school, are we?"

"Hi Hagrid!" She beamed.

They were led to one of the many boats surrounding the water, and Halia found herself stricken at the castle in the distance. She also found herself extremely terrified at the idea of getting in a boat after what happened last time…

Hagrid seemed to notice her expression. "Don' worry, Halia. We won' let anything happen to ya – not like those cruddy muggles."

Ron stared at her curiously. "What's wrong?"

Halia felt her heart beating in overtime. "Aunt and Uncle dragged my cousin and me onto a boat in the middle of a storm. The boat tipped over. Almost drowned…"

Her new friend held out his hand. "Don't worry, Halia. Hagrid is right; we won't let anything happen to you. Promise."

She felt like crying at his kindness, and accepted his hand. There was another boy already on their boat, and he grabbed her other hand when she swayed slightly.

"Thanks," she said to them both, settling in the middle of the boat.

Hagrid went back to calling out to the first-years, leaving the three occupants of the boat alone. Halia was starting to feel better though, especially from the supportive smiles Ron and the other boy kept sending her. "I'm Halia, by the way," she said to the other boy. "What's your name?"

"Seamus. Pleasure to meet you, Halia."

Ron stared at Seamus with bugged-out eyes; probably expecting him to react similar to Hermione (or himself). He didn't though, instead just smiling kindly. Halia was thankful.

"You as well."

Their attention was plastered back on the castle as it came closer and closer; looking even more spectacular in the moonlight than anyone could've possibly imagined.

She was growing more excited by the second.

Not soon enough, they reached the beautiful solid land (at least that's how Halia saw it). Hagrid was all smiles, especially when he looked at her, but he was also quite quick to leave them.

Halia and the rest of the first-years were led inside the beautiful castle, before being left in front of two giant double-doors. Ron leaned in closer.

"That's the Great Hall," he whispered, nodding towards the double doors. "That's where everyone has their meals – my oldest brother, Bill, told me the entire school watches us get sorted."

She gulped; suddenly very anxious.

Pulled from her fearful thoughts however, Halia's attention turned to an older woman that appeared in front of the first-years. This woman was slender, with brown hair that was graying, and a very stern facial expression.

"Follow me," she said, taking off down the hall.

The first years followed the woman until she stopped outside a smaller door. Then, the woman faced them again.

"My name is Professor McGonagall, and I am the Headmistress as well as the Head of the Gryffindor house. Through these doors, you will be sorted into your house and then join your house's table for dinner. I trust that you will treat your housemates with respect, as you will be stuck there for the next seven years. The four houses are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin,

Your houses will be like your homes – you will have classes with your house, eat with your house, spend your free time in your house common room, and earn points for your house. You can also lose points for your house, though that is not recommended. At the end of the year, the House Cup is awarded to whatever house has the most points. Now, I suggest you tidy yourselves up as you're about to be sorted in front of hundreds of students, as well as your future professors. Let's make a good impression, shall we?"

She glanced at Ron when she spoke the last few sentences; eyeing the smudge of dirt on his nose. Halia winced on his behalf.

"Is it gone?" he whispered, still rubbing his nose.

She nodded. "It's gone."

Professor McGonagall then opened the door, leading the first-years into the Great Hall. Everyone looked nervous; twitching uncontrollably, fidgeting with their robes, or wringing their hands together. Halia was no exception.

Professor McGonagall began calling out names, and Halia was relieved to see they were simply sorted by a talking hat. The first girl, Hannah, placed the hat on her head only to take it off a second later when the hat declared, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

More names were called, but Halia couldn't pay attention very well. She did take note of the boy on the boat with her and Ron, Seamus, being sorted into Gryffindor. The bossy girl, Hermione, was also sorted into Gryffindor, though the hat took longer to declare her house than it had anyone else's.

The next person she recognized was the Malfoy kid, who was (with no surprise) sorted into Slytherin immediately. Halia wasn't even sure the hat had time to sit on his head properly!

"Potter, Halia!"

She felt her heartbeat pick up, especially when hundreds of whispers broke out across the Great Hall. They were pointing at her – talking about her – staring at her. She felt sick.

Trying to not trip on her way to the stool, she focused mainly on her feet; one in front of the other. She reached the stool and grabbed the hat, sliding it on her head. It was too large, and she was left seeing darkness.

Halia jumped when a voice spoke inside her ear.

 _Potter…hmm? It's been so long since we've had a Potter in Hogwarts…and the Girl Who Lived, no less. Where shall we put you?_

She found herself counting the seconds, wondering if the hat took this long with anyone else.

 _Slytherin could help you achieve greatness…you could be the most powerful witch—_

Halia tore through his words with forceful thoughts – _Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin. Please, not Slytherin._

 _Not Slytherin, hmm? Are you sure? The house of the serpent could help you on your path of importance…You would never be forgotten…_

She flinched. _Please, anything but Slytherin._

 _Right, then…might as well be—_ "GRYFFINDOR!"

Halia's stomach flooded with relief, and she was blown away at the amount of applause coming from the Gryffindor table. Once she took the hat off, she noticed Ron giving her a "thumbs up".

His brothers, Fred and George, were going wild, yelling, "WE GOT POTTER! WE GOT POTTER!"

Making her way to the table, she forced a smile at Hermione (who was bragging to the third-years she sat by of her meeting with Halia on the train), and took a seat next to Seamus who'd been waving at her.

She smiled warmly at him, and waved happily at the Weasley twins and the other Gryffindors that acknowledged her.

"Riddle, Thomas."

An uneasy feeling settled in Halia's stomach suddenly, and she looked up at the first years still waiting to be sorted.

It was the boy she'd run into!

His face was a mask; no emotion shining through. The whispers in the hall seemed to die down. She realized that the boy had a way about him…he brought forth a presence that was hard to ignore. Everyone was focused on him – maybe even as much as they'd been focused on Halia.

The hat took its time with Thomas, too. And even though his eyes were covered, she felt like he was staring into her soul. Finally, the hat called out, "SLYTHERIN!"

Thomas took the hat off his head, and Halia found herself jumping slightly when his eyes locked on hers. He stared her down as he walked off towards his house's table, and she was not all that surprised to see no one clapping for him.

It wasn't until the boy took his seat that he finally looked away from her.

But still, all she could see were his cold blue eyes; still so dark they were almost black.

"What was that about?"

Halia jumped at Ron's voice suddenly on her other side, and turned to him. She must have been so distracted by the other boy that she'd missed Ron being sorted into Gryffindor!

"I'm so sorry," she said, feeling terrible. "I've missed your sorting!"

Ron shook her off. "It was no surprise, really. I wasn't joking when I said every Weasley has been sorted into Gryffindor. But anyways, back to the point, what was that about?"

Seamus nodded in agreement. "That kid was seriously glaring a hole into your forehead. I think it's still smoking from the impact."

He reached a hand up to Halia's forehead, brushing her scar. "See, look there. His staring left a scar on your forehead."

Ron burst out laughing, while Halia giggled. "Very funny, Seamus."

He grinned, before going back to his conversation with a couple of second-years.

Before they knew it, the sorting was over. Halia was getting on well with all of her housemates, and found that for the first time in ten years, she felt completely at home.

Someone cleared their throat, causing hundreds of eyes to turn back to the front of the Great Hall. Headmaster Dumbledore stood before all the students; his eyes twinkling, especially when they landed on Halia.

"Before we are served this beautiful feast, I have just a few words to say: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Enjoy your dinner!"

Her eyebrows furrowed together – just what was Dumbledore playing at? What did those words even mean? Halia was sure their headmaster was one very, very strange man.

"Is he always like that?" she heard Seamus ask a tall, lanky boy with fiery red hair and freckles.

Halia vaguely recalled Ron describing his brothers to her, and she was positive this must be one of them. The older boy pursed his lips, taking on a very pompous attitude.

"He is a very odd man," he answered. "He must be somewhat sane though; he did make me Prefect, after all."

 _Right, then_ ,Halia thought, _he must be Percy._

She glanced at Ron, and knew her suspicion was confirmed when he rolled his eyes.

"Prefect Percy," one of the twins – she thought maybe it was Fred – said. "You should change your birth certificate to say that."

"Yeah Perce," the other twin – George? – added in. "Perfect—I mean _Prefect_ —Percy."

"No, George, that actually works better—"

Halia allowed herself a tiny smile at being able to tell apart the Weasley twins.

"—you're right, Fred – Perfect Prefect Percy. Brilliant."

Percy looked ready to throttle his brothers, but his responsibility of being a Prefect must have held him back. Halia was definitely amused, but decided to bring her attention elsewhere.

At the head table, she recognized two people – Professor Quirrell and Professor McGonagall. Of course, there was also the Headmaster, but he sat at a higher-up table than the rest of the Professors.

There was a man sitting next to Professor Quirrell that gave Halia the chills, and it didn't help that he was staring right at her! Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in her head.

She rubbed her temples instinctively; wincing.

"Are you okay?" Ron looked at her in concern.

"Yeah," she whispered, looking back at the man. He looked away. "Who is that man next to Professor Quirrell?"

Percy was the one who answered. "That would be Professor Snape – he teaches Potions."

"Rumor has it he's been after the Defense against the Dark Arts position—"

"—Rumor also has it that Dumbledore has denied him every single year. Good thing too, Snape is a right-foul git."

The twins didn't hide their dislike of the Potions Professor, and apparently they weren't alone in that sentiment judging by the looks on their housemates faces. The rest of the discussion was put on hold, however, when all of the plates lining the tables filled with foods of all different kinds. The golden pitchers filled to the brims with different liquids.

Halia's stomach growled.

"Blimey, look at all this food!" Ron was wasting no time, grabbing at anything greasy or salty.

She turned to Seamus; asking him to pass the platter of hams on his other side.

"Here, give me your plate," he said, and then grabbed Halia's plate when she offered it up.

Seamus piled on two pieces of ham, both different kinds, and gave her the plate back. She started cutting the meat, and piled large amounts in her mouth. She was fairly certain this was the most she'd even seen at one table, let alone eaten!

After the ham was gone, Halia piled some type of chicken dipped in a spicy sauce onto her plate. Glancing at the mashed potatoes, she hastily spooned some of those as well.

It was then she noticed the look Hermione was giving her. "What?"

The other girl scrunched her nose. "You're acting like you haven't eaten in years…could you be a bit less messy?"

Halia exchanged a look with Ron, but before she could reply, Seamus answered.

"Is it any of your business how she eats? Maybe you could just look away from her and focus on your own food?"

Hermione looked put out, and opened her mouth – probably to give another rude response – but Halia interrupted her. She really didn't want to make enemies with her housemates…or be the cause of people disliking each other.

"I was raised with my relatives," Halia began, giving Hermione a stare that made her shut her mouth. "I had maybe one full meal a day, and even then it wasn't much…some bread, maybe a bowl of soup. This is the most food I've ever seen, let alone eaten."

Hermione had no response to that, thankfully, and everyone went back to eating. When the main course was over, the plates cleaned themselves and then reappeared with dessert.

Halia grabbed a slice of cheesecake.

It wasn't much later that Dumbledore reappeared in front of everyone; whipping his mouth with a hankie.

"I hope that the food was up to everyone's standard, and that our bellies are now full and ready for slumber," he began, his voice loud and soft at the same time. "Before your house Prefects show you to your common room, I have a few start-of-term announcements.

First things first, I must remind all students that the Forbidden Forest is called Forbidden for a reason – no students are permitted to enter the forest by themselves under any circumstances…" Halia watched as his eyes travelled over Fred and George, who exchanged guilty looks, before continuing. "And second, the third-floor corridor is off limits to those who don't wish to die an untimely death."

The headmaster let his words sink in for a minute. "Right, then, off to bed with you all! I'm sure you will be well-rested and well-fed for your classes' tomorrow! And…welcome to Hogwarts…or for most of you, welcome back!"

Suddenly, it was chaos. All of the students were getting up from their tables, meeting up with their friends from other houses, while the first-years were being rushed out of the Great Hall by their house Prefects. Halia struggled to keep up with her year-mates as her attention was grabbed from all angles.

There were transparent ghosts roaming the halls! The pictures were moving and talking! The staircases were moving! There was even a poltergeist making raspberries at the Ravenclaw first-years passing through.

The Gryffindor firsties were led up several of the moving staircases, down several hallways, and when they finally reached the common room, Halia was sure she'd never find it again without a map of some kind.

Percy turned to face them. "The password is changed every week," he said, and then turned towards a Portrait of a fat lady in a green dress. "Patronus."

The portrait swung open, leaving a giant hole in the wall just big enough to fit through. Percy ushered everyone in, and Halia found herself gasping at the beauty of the common room.

For starters, it was fairly large – no, it was _huge_! There were cozy looking arm-chairs, couches, and a fireplace already lit. The color scheme of the room must have been based off Gryffindor, as almost everything was maroon or gold.

It was fantastic!

Percy gave them some type of welcoming speech, but the only thing Halia caught was that they'd be getting their class schedules at breakfast the next morning. Before she knew it, he was shooing everyone off to bed. It was then she noticed the two staircases opposite each other.

Seamus and Ron told her goodnight, promising to meet up with her in the morning before leaving for breakfast. Halia followed Hermione up to their dorm room, and was surprised to see that it, too, was very spacious.

There were four queen-sized beds with curtains in each corner of the room, and beside each bed were desks, bookshelves, and lamps. Halia was happy to see that her trunk was on a bed next to the window, and promptly fell onto the soft cushiony mattress.

A loud hiss caused her to scream, and she rolled over to see Athena glaring up at her. Smiling and pulling the kneazle close, Halia finally let her eyes drift shut.

She didn't even get the chance to close her curtains before she fell asleep.


	8. First Day of Classes

_Chapter Seven_

* * *

Halia woke to a paw in her face, but her excitement spared Athena from being thrown across the room. Instead, she gently pushed the kneazle over and rolled off the bed.

She shared the dorm with three other girls – Hermione, Lavender Brown, and Parvati Patil. While Hermione was quite hard to get along with due to her bossy aura, the other two girls were very friendly towards Halia.

At the moment, however, Hermione was the only other girl awake. Halia was not surprised to find the girl reading one of her textbooks either. Snobby or not, the girl was admirable in her thirst for knowledge.

"Can we study together some time?"

Hermione jumped slightly, probably thinking she was still the only one awake. When her eyes met Halia's, they grew wide in surprise. "Me?"

"Yes, you! Who else could I be talking to? Athena?"

"Well…then…yes, I suppose we could study together some time."

Halia smiled at the girl as she dressed in her robes. After she pulled on her skirt underneath, she sat down at the desk by her bed and pulled out the parchment she'd bought in Diagon Alley. All of her supplies were put away, she'd noticed. The only thing that she had to do was unpack her trunk.

Writing a quick note to Madam Malkin, letting her know she was sorted into Gryffindor, Halia began to wonder just where Hedwig was. She turned to Hermione.

"Do you know where they keep the owls?"

For the first time since meeting her, Halia watched her dorm-mate give a shy smile. "The Owlery, I suspect."

"Wow, Hermione, you are really quite smart," she beamed. "How do you know all these things?"

"I read all about the castle and how the school is run in a book called Hogwarts, a History," said Hermione, leafing through several school texts before pulling out a decent-sized book. "You can borrow it, if you'd like. There are a lot of informative things written in it."

Halia recalled Hermione talking about things from the book the previous day, and thought she might just have to borrow it.

"Thanks," she grinned. "Would you like to go to breakfast with Ron, Seamus, and I?"

Her face fell. "No, thanks."

Halia thought her answer was strange, but knew better than to push the girl into doing something she clearly didn't want to do. "All right, then. I'll see you in classes?"

She nodded, and Halia chose that moment to escape the dorm before Lavender and Parvati woke up. Although she got along with them, they were very talkative and without a doubt they'd make her late for class.

Bouncing down the stairs, she greeted Seamus and Ron with a giant smile. "Shall we get started on our first day?"

Ron was wiping sleep from his eyes, still. "You are way too energetic for so early in the morning…"

Seamus voiced his agreement. "Not to mention, way too excited for school."

"This isn't just normal school though," Halia rambled on. "We get to learn _magic_!"

Both boys rolled their eyes, but together the trio made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. They were just about to walk through the double doors when another boy caught up to them – Halia recognized him from the sorting – another Gryffindor.

The boy had dark skin and dark hair, but his smile was brighter than the floating candles lining the ceiling in the next room. "Do you guys mind if I sit with you?"

Seamus grinned at the boy. "Course not, Dean."

The boy looked relieved, and all four of them entered the hall and took their seats at the Gryffindor table. Halia noticed Hermione already sitting – by herself – at the end of the table.

 _How did she get here so fast?_ Halia had no idea.

Breakfast wasn't quite as extravagant as the feast the night before, but it was more than Hagrid made the morning he rescued her and it was definitely more than she'd ever eaten at the Dursleys'.

Halia was biting into a forkful of eggs when Professor McGonagall handed over her class schedule. Ron and Seamus got their schedules next, followed by Hermione and Dean.

Looking over her schedule, she found her excitement bubbling up even more. On Mondays she had History of Magic with the Hufflepuffs, Herbology with the Ravenclaws, and double Potions with the Slytherins (yikes) right before dinner.

Her favorite day of classes would for sure be Wednesdays, when she had Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, and a double block of Defense. Friday mornings would be tough, however, because they had Astronomy at midnight the night before.

Either way, Halia was bursting with excitement. She didn't even care that the classes she looked forward to the most happened to be with Slytherins! At least she would always have her new friends with her.

Their first class of the morning was History of Magic, and on the way to the classroom, Ron was telling her all about the teacher – a ghost named Professor Binns, who was apparently the only ghost to ever teach a Hogwarts class.

"Fred and George reckon it's a great place to catch up on sleep," Ron continued, barely catching himself as he tripped up the moving staircase. "Bloody things! Great…what are we going to do now!? Our classroom was that way!"

The four students watched as their destination grew farther and farther away.

"I'm sure we can find a way…"

They stepped into the corridor that the stairs connected to, but none of the surroundings were familiar…not that they would've been familiar if they'd stayed on the right track, either. About to burst into tears from the sudden possibility of being late for their first class, Halia was somewhat relieved for the distraction that came in the form of Athena.

The kneazle nudged her legs, causing all four of them to look down.

"Is that a kneazle?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," she replied, slightly distraught still. "Athena, can you show us the way to History of Magic? It's Professor Binn's classroom."

Athena let out a _murfow_ before heading down the corridor to the left. They followed the kneazle for a good five minutes, taking different turns and going down two different staircases, before they stopped in front of what must've been the classroom.

"Blimey, that is one smart animal." Ron stared at Athena in amazement.

"Well now we're here, so I guess it's time to catch up on some sleep?" Seamus grinned at them before disappearing into the room.

Ron and Dean also went in, but Halia lurked back a moment. Kneeling down, she pulled a smushed piece of parchment out of her robes.

"Athena, can you bring this to Hedwig for me? It's for Madam Malkin."

She felt slightly silly speaking to an animal like it was a human, but she had read all about kneazles…enough to know that they understood the human language. Athena let out another _murfow_ before nipping the parchment out of Halia's hands and disappearing around the corner.

Smiling and feeling immensely relieved, she finally entered the classroom and took the open seat next to Ron. It was no surprise to anyone when fifteen minutes into the class, half of its occupants were sleeping.

Professor Binns was droning on about the Goblin Rebellion…which Halia thought might have been a very interesting subject, if it weren't for the professor's boring monotonous voice.

* * *

Lunch finally rolled around, to which Halia was very thankful because she was very, _very_ hungry. Their Herbology class was interesting enough; if any of the Gryffindors enjoyed it the most, it would've definitely been a boy called Neville Longbottom who had a flurry of questions to ask about almost everything.

At least, his curiosity paid off for the rest of the house in terms of many points awarded to Gryffindor. Halia was sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, surrounded by Ron, Seamus, Dean, Neville, and a few older students.

For lunch, she munched on a piece of chicken and didn't hide her amazement at how much food Ron could shovel in his mouth all at once. She also noticed the look Hermione – who was sitting at the end of the table by herself again – gave him when he wiped his hands on his robes instead of the napkins provided.

A change in atmosphere arrived in the form of a hundred owls swooping into the Great Hall; most with letters or packages carried around their legs. Halia spotted Hedwig flying towards her, and grew excited when the owl dropped a giant package and two letters in front of her – despite the package knocking into several things.

Seamus was quick to grab the pitcher of pumpkin juice before it could fall over, and Halia tore off a piece of bread for Hedwig. The owl greedily ate the bread pieces before grabbing the entire piece and flying away.

Ron let out an amused snort. "Greedy little thing, isn't she?"

Halia watched as Hedwig disappeared with her piece of bread. She smiled. "She's a good owl, so she deserves it."

Grabbing the first letter that was attached to the giant package, she ripped it open and read the contents.

 _Halia,_

 _I had a feeling you'd be sorted into Gryffindor… Just like your parents, you are. Here are some house-inspired clothes – including pajamas – along with some normal clothes. Just remember our deal; when you grow out of these ones, make sure you come and see me first!_

 _Keep in contact, and tell me if you like what I've made for you. Enjoy your first week of classes, as well._

 _Madam Malkin_

Halia couldn't believe the kindness the Madam showed her, and was even more excited to open it than she was before she read the letter.

Her friends helped her open the package – she'd never dealt with magically sealed boxes before – and soon she was staring into a wonderland of new clothes.

Madam Malkin had made her pajama pants with maroon and gold designs stitched into them – plaid, polka-dots, checkers – you name it. There was several maroon shirts in different lengths (t-shirts, long-sleeved shirts, etc.) with Gryffindor stitched in gold lettering on the back.

She'd also supplied Halia with a good amount of pants – jeans and sweats – along with sweatshirts and blouses and skirts – and even included a deep purple jacket that went well with her dark hair. At the bottom, there were several Gryffindor scarves and hats, along with a simple black brush and several hair accessories.

"Who sent you all that?"

Halia turned to Hermione, who was trying to peek into the box with a neutral expression.

"Madam Malkin sent me them," she explained. "I don't have any clothes that fit me right because my relatives never bought me new clothes…they just gave me hand-me-downs."

Closing the box up and setting it down by her feet, Halia opened the second letter Hedwig had delivered.

 _Halia,_

 _Hope yer first day of classes are going well. Would you fancy some tea before dinner? If yeh grab Athena before yeh leave, she can show yeh the way here. Smart kneazle, she is._

 _Oh! And if yeh remember, can yeh ask Professor Snape if he has any spare Monkshood?_

 _Hagrid_

Halia turned to her friends. "Did anyone want to visit Hagrid with me after Potions class?"

"I wubnt min frum fresh bair affer blass," Ron mumbled, mouth still full of food.

She wasn't quite sure how she understood him, but she did and she was happy he wanted to come with. Seamus and Dean opted out; Dean already promising Seamus he'd show him how to play Wizard Chess after classes were over.

Halia read over Hagrid's note again, her eyes squinting at his last question. "Does anyone know what…Monkshood is?"

Hermione spoke up. "It's another name for Wolfsbane or Aconite – a plant used in a potion to help werewolves keep their minds during a Full Moon."

Halia stare at the other girl in amazement.

"Blimey, that's third-year material. How does she know that?"

Ron shrugged at Dean's whispered question. "She probably read through the entire seven years' worth of books just so she could be a know-it-all."

Halia frowned at him. "Ron, that's quite rude." She turned to Hermione. "Thanks, Hermione."

The girl smiled, slightly unsure, before going back to her lunch. Halia was left wondering what in the world Hagrid would need the primary ingredient of a werewolf potion for.

* * *

Potions class proved to be her least favorite subject – if only because the Potions Professor surely hated her for no good reason at all.

Halia wasn't even talking when he rounded on her – it'd been Ron and Seamus, the latter sitting behind them, who'd been whispering back and forth!

"Ah, Miss Potter, our new _celebrity_ ," snarled Professor Snape. "Why am I not surprised that you find yourself above the rules? There is to be _silence_ when I am teaching…but we can't have the famous Halia Potter following the basic old rules, can we?"

Halia stayed silent; eyes wide.

"I didn't think so," the Professor began pacing up and down the classroom. "Well then, since you seem to know our text well enough that you need not pay attention…"

The only sound was the sniggering of the Slytherins – namely Draco Malfoy and his cronies.

"Potter! Tell me, what would I get if I added Powdered Root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?"

She faltered; not knowing the answer at all. Hermione, who was sitting by herself at the closest table to the front, lifted her hand tentatively into the air.

"No? Nothing? Then – where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

She didn't even know what a bezoar was! No one told Halia they were expected to read through their entire textbook before classes began! Hermione, on the other hand, raised her hand higher into the air.

"Still nothing? How upsetting… Well then, I expect you don't know the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

Her head snapped up. She did know the answer to that! It was sheer coincidence that they'd been discussing it at lunch earlier.

"Sir, I don't believe there is a difference? Aren't Wolfsbane and Monkshood – or Aconite – the same plant used in a potion for werewolves?"

The Potions Professor looked murderous. "Ten points from Gryffindor for your attitude, Miss Potter! I expect better of you from now on!"

There was an outraged cry echoing throughout the Gryffindors, and Halia gave Ron a look of pure confusion. He looked angrier than she felt, and a quick glance behind her showed Dean restraining Seamus to his seat, as the Irish boy looked ready to fight the Potions Professor.

Even Hermione sent her a sympathetic glance.

The person who did speak up, however, was the person everyone least expected. In fact, he'd been so quiet that she didn't even realize he was there.

"I didn't notice she had an attitude, Professor."

All eyes in the classroom turned to Thomas Riddle, who was staring at Snape with a blank expression. The Potions Professor paused for just a second, before continuing on like the boy hadn't said a thing. That didn't stop everyone from gaping at him, though.

The rest of the class went by in a blur; Halia taking as many notes as she could, while trying to keep Thomas out of her thoughts.

After they were dismissed, she waited for him outside the classroom.

When he walked out, he didn't bother stopping despite Halia obviously waiting for him. She chased after him.

"Wait! I just wanted to say thank you for sticking up for me!"

He stopped walking and turned around; his face still a blank mask. "I wasn't sticking up for you. Now stop following me."

Halia watched him walk away, feeling full of questions.

"What in the bloody hell is his problem?" Ron appeared at her side.

She honestly didn't have a clue.

* * *

Just like he'd promised, Ron accompanied Halia down to Hagrid's; Athena acting as their tour-guide. The kneazle kept looking back at them, making sure they weren't falling behind.

When they reached the hut, Athena scampered away and Halia knocked gently on Hagrid's door. His shout of "come in!" was slightly muffled, but she pushed it open anyway.

The first thing to greet her was a giant dog that tackled her to the floor.

"Get off 'er, Fang!" Hagrid came booming into the entrance. "Yah big ol' lump!"

The dog – Fang – rolled off Halia, but not before licking her face all over. Ron stood back slightly; staring wide-eyed at the large canine.

Hagrid, probably recognizing the look on Ron's face, quickly spoke up. "Fang is a giant ol' teddy-bear. He wouldn' hurt a fly."

As if to prove Hagrid's point, Fang walked over to Ron and licked his hand.

Ten minutes later, and they were sitting around Hagrid's table, sipping on freshly brewed tea.

"Don' suppose yeh were able ter get tha' Monkshood?"

Halia winced. "Snape doesn't like me very much, Hagrid. In fact, I think he hates me! I was afraid to even speak, let alone ask him for any favors!"

Hagrid merely stared at her. "Hate yeh? Nonsense! Professor Snape's a bit rough 'round ter edges, sure, but hate yeh? Yeh must just be over-thinkin' things."

Ron shook his head. "No, he definitely hates her."

Hagrid went on to explain yet again how Snape was hard to get along with in the beginning, but how he was a professional and acted like one no matter what happened. Halia blurred his speech out though, instead focusing on a newspaper sitting on Hagrid's table.

The pictures were moving, which was what caught her attention at first, but the article on the front page was titled "Break in at Gringotts". Halia remembered Hagrid visiting the vault it described in the article, and turned to the man.

"There was a break in at the vault you visited, Hagrid. What happened?"

Hagrid hesitated. "None of yer concern, now why don' you two head back up ter the castle? Dinner should be served soon."

For as much as he wanted their company in the beginning, Hagrid was sure quick to kick them out once Halia had seen the article. On their walk back up to the castle, she informed Ron in on everything she knew.

"Blimey, do you reckon they were trying to steal whatever Hagrid grabbed?" Ron asked after Halia finished explaining.

"That's what I suspect," she said, nodding.

Overall, Halia thought her first day of classes ended up being quite memorable…in both a good and a bad way.

Chapter Eight


	9. Flying Lessons

_Chapter Eight_

* * *

Halia had been at Hogwarts for about two weeks, and things were going better than ever. The only thing that continued to bother her was the Potion Master's blatant dislike for her.

It was after a particularly bad class – where Snape had taken fifteen points from Gryffindor solely because Halia's potion hadn't been the _correct_ shade of green – that the first-years walked into the common room to see a new post on the bulletin board.

 _FLYING LESSONS NOW AVAILABLE_

 _GRYFFINDORS AND SLYTHERINS – TUESDAY AFTER CLASSES_

 _HUFFLEPUFFS AND RAVENCLAWS – WEDNESDAY AFTER CLASSES_

 _MEET OUT ON THE QUIDDITCH FIELD. CLASS WILL BE TAUGHT BY MADAM HOOCH._

Halia let out a frustrated groan. Why couldn't they be stuck with another house? She was so sick of listening to Malfoy be rude at her expense, and honestly wanted to avoid Thomas as much as possible. He wasn't rude in so many words like Malfoy, but he had a way about him that gave Halia a headache.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered from behind her. "Why does it have to be the Slytherins?"

"Why does what?" Seamus and Dean walked up to them, reading the bulletin.

"Great," said Dean, walking over to an arm chair and collapsing. "That's tomorrow and right after double Potions too."

Not realizing this herself, Halia let out another groan. "Maybe we can just ignore the Slytherins and enjoy the lesson?"

She'd been told all about flying and Quidditch by her housemates, and even got an extensive description of the sport by Ron one night in the common room. Halia couldn't lie; the thought of flying through the air on a broomstick both terrified and thrilled her.

She knew, without a doubt, she'd try out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team next year (first years weren't even permitted their own broom).

"We can definitely try," replied Seamus, sending her a smile.

Hermione walked up to them, her face carefully composed. "Flying lessons? Should be interesting, I've been reading all about how to fly properly."

Dean raised an eyebrow at her. "You do realize flying isn't something you learn how to do by reading a book, right?"

Judging by the unhealthy shade of purple her face took on, the girl looked like she most certainly did not realize that. Halia watched as Hermione fell onto one of the couches; her hair looking frizzier than usual.

"It'll be okay, Hermione," Halia tried to comfort her. "Honestly, how hard could it be?"

* * *

The next day, their morning classes went by quickly and smoothly. It wasn't until lunch that they ran into a snag in the perfect day-so-far.

A school owl dropped off a package for Neville Longbottom from his grandmother, which turned out to be something called a Remembrall. Neville was showing it to his housemates, obviously ecstatic that his grandmother had sent him anything at all.

"What is a Remembrall?" Halia asked, staring quizzically at the sphere.

Neville looked happy to explain. "It's supposed to tell you when you forget something by turning a bright red…" He trailed off when the ball did, in fact, turn a bright red.

"Oh my, Neville, you've forgotten something," Halia said, frowning at him.

Neville looked a bit uneasy as the attention shifted to him – all four Gryffindors searching his person for something that wasn't there. Seconds later, Seamus snapped his fingers.

"I've got it! Neville, where is your tie?"

Looking down, the boy turned as red as the ball he was holding. "I suppose that must be it, then."

They all started to laugh, very amused, when someone snatched the Remembrall right out of Neville's hands. They looked up, though no one was surprised to find Draco Malfoy holding the ball with a sneer on his face.

"Your grandma sent you something so stupid, why am I not surprised?" Malfoy tossed it between his hands. "She must not love you very much."

"Malfoy, shove off!" Halia felt anger flowing through her veins. "Give Neville back his Remembrall and quit being a foul git for once in your worthless life!"

The sneer dropped from Draco's face; replaced by childish fury. "Shut up, Potter! I don't think anyone asked for your opinion – oh, but that doesn't matter, does it? Even Professor Snape knows you'll exploit your fame for all its worth!"

Halia got to her feet, clenching her fists tightly, only to be pulled back down by Ron. She was ready to beat the living daylights out of him! Why was Ron holding her back?

But then, she realized exactly why he pulled her back down; Professor McGonagall had caught wind of their scuffle and was heading straight towards them. Malfoy wasn't lucky enough to see her coming. Halia smirked.

"What is going on here, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco froze and turned around. "N-nothing Professor, I was just…having a look here at Neville's Remembrall."

McGonagall was obviously not buying it. "Ten points from Slytherin. Give Longbottom back his Remembrall and go back to your own table. _Now_."

Sending the Gryffindors a sour look – and aiming a scowl at Halia – Draco disappeared back to the Slytherin table with his lackeys following closely behind.

"Finish up your lunch now, you don't want to be late for classes."

The Headmistress left them to their own devices once again, and Halia softened her expression at Neville. "Are you okay?"

He turned red again. "Fine, thanks for sticking up for me."

She shook her head. "Malfoy is a git. You need to stick up for yourself too, you know."

"Yeah, Neville. Halia won't always be here to fight back for you," Dean said gently.

Ron and Seamus grabbed Neville's shoulders at the same time, giving him a comforting squeeze.

* * *

Unfortunately – if you asked Halia, at least – Potions class came before they were ready. Well, technically, they would never be _ready_ to deal with Professor Snape's obvious dislike for Gryffindors and even more obvious dislike for Halia, but at the very least they prepared themselves for it when they could.

This was not one of those times.

Halia felt like she was being slow-cooked in anger. They were brewing a potion that was supposed to cure boils, and Snape claimed one "lucky" person would get to take the potion that would _give_ them boils, and another "lucky" person would get to serve up the antidote.

It was nobody's surprise that Halia was chosen as the person who would get boils, and found that she was erupting in the painful bumps all over her body, rather than just the face like Snape had said. Keeping the tears from her eyes – because they were definitely there – Halia tried very hard to maintain a straight face.

"All right, who shall serve up the antidote to Miss Potter's boil problem?" Snape was patrolling the room, looking in everyone's cauldrons.

She felt her stomach drop when he stopped in front of Neville's, who was well-known for completely destroying potions. Halia felt a tear slip down her cheek, though no one would be able to see it over the ugly boils all over her face.

"Mr. Longbottom…your potion looks absolutely terrible…and a perfect choice for our demonstration," Snape said slowly.

Neville met Halia's eyes, and she could easily tell he felt terrible at what was about to happen. She could already see Seamus' face growing red, but instead of holding him back like last time, Dean was also growing angry. Ron's face already matched his hair.

"Why aren't you choosing a potion that is done correctly?" Dean almost yelled.

"Yeah! You're basically setting them up for fail! That's not fair!"

Snape turned his glare on Dean and Seamus, silencing Ron before he could even chime in. "I never claimed to be fair, Mr. Finnegan – and I most certainly don't expect a first-year to know more about potions than I do, Mr. Thomas. Ten points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn."

Snape bent over Neville's cauldron, about to fill up the vial he held, when another voice broke the silence. As usual, everyone was shocked to hear Thomas speaking.

"I would like to test my antidote on her."

The Potions Professor turned his beady eyes on the Slytherin boy, narrowing them. "Excuse me?"

Thomas didn't break eye contact. "I said, I would like to test my antidote on her."

Halia counted the seconds – sixty three – before Snape responded. "Very well, then…Mr. Riddle, your antidote?"

He handed the Professor a vial of his antidote. Snape took it and turned towards Halia. She was feeling quite confused on what was happening, and wasn't sure if she'd rather have Neville's antidote or Thomas' antidote…but she didn't have a choice, either way.

"Potter, come here."

Halia approached Snape and Thomas, stopping just in front of the boy's table. Snape handed her the vial.

 _1, 2, and 3_ – she downed it, squeezing her eyes shut in anticipation.

Instead of growing more boils – or worse – she was surprised to find the boils she had growing down to a smaller size until they disappeared completely. Thomas stared directly at her, and this time, she stared directly back.

She counted the seconds it took for the boils to go away, along with the seconds it took before one of them broke eye contact – seventy four – and it was Halia who looked away first.

"Thanks," she said, before walking straight out of the Potions classroom.

She was angry, that was for sure. She felt sick. Her stomach was in knots. She felt humiliated. And embarrassed. And ashamed. She felt everything.

And she headed straight for Madam Pomfrey's – at least the Medi-Witch would give her something to make her feel better, and even write her a slip for the last twenty minutes of Potions.

* * *

By the time she was down on the Quidditch Pitch for Flying Lessons, Halia felt much better. Much like she'd expected, Madam Pomfrey had given her a pepper-up potion and sent word to Dumbledore on why she left Potions early.

When she reached the rest of the first-years all waiting for Madam Hooch, Halia couldn't help but meet Thomas' eyes. She looked away immediately.

Ron, Seamus, Dean, and even Hermione were all anxious to hear that she was all right. Halia was quick to assure them; putting on the brightest smile she could handle at the moment.

"You should've seen Snape's face when you just walked out," Ron was saying. "He looked like he was going to explode."

"I don't normally condone cutting classes, but in this case I couldn't blame you for leaving," Hermione said softly. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Halia."

"Yeah, Halia, really, we are so sorry." Seamus looked guilty.

"Seriously, you guys, there was nothing you could do," she said quickly, brushing them off.

"We could've offered up our own potions like Riddle did," said Dean, looking put out.

Halia shook her head. "No. I don't know why he is special, but Professor Snape doesn't say anything when Thomas interrupts or demands something. I'm positive no one else, probably not even Malfoy, would get away with that kind of stuff."

All five of the Gryffindors looked over at Thomas, who happened to be staring directly at Halia.

"Why is he always staring at you?" Ron sounded miffed.

"Your guess is as good as mine."

Their conversation was cut short at the arrival of Madam Hooch. The eccentric woman began by passing out brooms for everyone; instructing to leave them on the ground.

They were organized into two neat rows – one with Gryffindors and the other with Slytherins. Unfortunately, Malfoy happened to be directly across from Halia.

"All right, class – on the count of three, I want you to say 'up!'. Not everyone's brooms will respond right away, so don't be discouraged. Okay…now one – two – three!"

"Up!" Halia grinned when her broom flew into her hands with such force she was almost knocked off balance.

Ron had to say it several times before it responded, and Seamus was still repeating the command over and over with no luck. Dean, however, got it on the third try. Hermione was also having a bit of bad luck.

Sadly, Malfoy also got it on the first try, as did Thomas.

A good ten minutes later, and every student managed to get their broom to respond – even Hermione and Neville, who'd both taken the longest out of everyone.

Madam Hooch instructed everyone to mount their brooms, explaining the specific and correct way of getting on, and found herself stifling giggles when Malfoy was told he'd been doing it wrong his entire life.

He sent a glare at Halia after their instructor disappeared to assist the next person. "Something funny, Potter?"

Ron spoke instead. "Definitely not, Malfoy… It's definitely not funny that Halia, who's never been on a broom before, got on it perfectly while you –who has been riding his entire life – have been doing it wrong."

Dean and Seamus were doubled over in laughter, but Hermione let out a quiet giggle that had Halia doing a double take.

They were abruptly interrupted by the sound of yelling by both Neville Longbottom and Madam Hooch as the former started to rise into the air unexpectedly and the latter yelled to get him down.

 _Yeah, because raising your voice is going to calm him down._ Halia shook her head, feeling bad for Neville. A lot of bad things always seemed to happen to him.

The boy eventually flailed around enough that his robes got caught on a pointy part of the castle, causing his broom to abandon him. He was immobile for only a few seconds, when suddenly his robes ripped and he fell several stories to the ground.

Halia winced when there was a loud crack upon impact.

Out of instinct, she took a step towards the fallen boy. She wondered – hoped – that he was all right, but judging by his loud crying, he probably wasn't.

Madam Hooch was already there. She hoisted him over her shoulder, and turned towards the class.

"I am going to take Longbottom to the infirmary. While I am gone, I expect everyone to stay on the ground. Shall any of you disobey my orders; you'll find yourselves expelled the second I return."

She then disappeared through the castle doors, and Halia's worries were put on hold when she spotted Neville's Remembrall in front of her. He must have dropped it! Kneeling down, she reached out to grab it—

It was snatched right out of her hands! When Halia looked up, she was not at all surprised to see Malfoy with a blood-boiling sneer on his face. And her blood was definitely boiling.

"Merlin, Malfoy! Can't you just bugger off already? Give me Neville's Remembrall!"

Malfoy turned away from her. "Did you see his face, the lump?"

Letting out a snarl of anger, Halia pushed into Malfoy's back as hard as she could. The boy went tumbling forward, but stayed on his feet. Angrily, he turned around to face her.

"You want it that badly, Potter? You're going to have to catch me first, then!"

Malfoy had an infuriating smirk on his face, but Halia froze when he mounted his broom and disappeared into the sky. What was the git even playing at?

She barely hesitated, before mounting her own broom.

"Halia, no!" Hermione was giving her a very disapproving look. "You heard what Madam Hooch said! You'll be expelled!"

Shaking her head, she flew into the air anyway. Somewhat surprised to find how easily handling a broom came to her, Halia zoomed after Malfoy; taking a quick lurch towards him.

The boy barely dodged her, and his face went from arrogance to outrage. "Think you're a hero, Potter? Why do you care so much about Longbottom, anyway? Got you a little boyfriend, do you?"

Halia narrowed her eyes at him, hovering in the air. "Shove off and give me his Remembrall, Malfoy! You're just making yourself look stupid!"

Malfoy scowled. "You better be fast on that broom, Potter!"

He hiked back his arm, and threw the Remembrall as far as he could. Halia didn't hesitate this time; instantly zooming after the ball. The air was now abusive to her face as she struggled for breath, but a second later Halia was close enough to reach out and snatch the ball just before it broke through the castle's window.

She couldn't stop herself from grinning, turning towards her classmates and holding up the Remembrall for everyone to see. Her housemates cheered for her, and she felt so _alive_!

Turning back towards the window, Halia's heart dropped.

Professor McGonagall's classroom was on the other side of the window, and the Transfiguration teacher was staring directly at her.

Face draining of color; she slowly began lowering herself to the ground. By the time Halia reached the ground, Professor McGonagall was already coming out of the castle's double doors. She felt sick.

"Halia Potter, come with me this instant!"

There were cries of outrage, as all of her housemates – even Hermione – tried to say that it wasn't Halia's fault – that Malfoy started it; he was bullying Neville – that Halia rescued Neville's Remembrall!

"Enough!" The woman looked affronted. "Five points from Gryffindor for disobeying a Professor. Now Miss Potter, come with me!"

"Yes ma'am," she muttered, feeling very anxious.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hey guys, this is the first author's note I've left for this story. I see a lot of you are following it, and it's got a few favorites! Don't be afraid to let me know what you think so far - what should be different - if I am following the story too closely or not closely enough - I always welcome _friendly_ criticism! :)


	10. The Midnight Duel

_Chapter Nine_

* * *

Halia expected to be expelled – to have her wand taken and snapped in half – to be yelled at and punished – she most definitely did _not_ expect what happened instead.

Professor McGonagall led her through the halls, up the staircases, and stopped just outside the charms classroom where Professor Flitwick was teaching a class of fifth-years.

"Sorry Filius, do you mind if I borrow Wood for a bit?"

A boy in the middle of the class looked up from his notes. Professor Flitwick nodded his head, and the boy excused himself from the lesson. Closing the door behind him, he turned to face Professor McGonagall.

"What can I help with, Professor?"

McGonagall beamed, though her expression was still stern. "Potter, this is Oliver Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Wood, this is Halia Potter. She is going to be your new Seeker."

Halia's mouth dropped open. "E-excuse me?"

Oliver Wood looked extremely happy however, and turned towards her. "You're good at flying then, eh?"

She felt uneasy. "I just flew for the first time today, and I thought first-years weren't supposed to—"

Professor McGonagall interrupted her. "I just watched her catch a Remembrall in a fifty-foot dive _at least_. We are going to give an exception to the rules just this once, but I expect you to keep on top of your studies, Potter, otherwise I will revoke this privilege immediately, understood?"

Halia nodded furiously; suddenly very excited. "Yes, Professor, ma'am!"

"Now Wood, I'm excusing you from the rest of your class. I'd like you to take her down to the Quidditch Pitch and show her the ropes of the game. Our first match is in several weeks, so you'd better get started on training her in."

"No problem, Professor! Ready then, Halia?"

She nodded again, and they started walking away.

"Oh, and Potter?"

She turned around – expecting Professor McGonagall to remember her punishment for breaking the rules – when instead, she said, "Five points to Gryffindor for that fantastic save. Now off you go."

She grinned; feeling lighter than she had all day. Not only was she an official member of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, but she got back the five points her housemates had lost for sticking up for her! Wait until her friends heard about this!

* * *

Halia and Oliver had spent the last two and a half hours practicing, but she felt confident enough to say that she knew the rules of Quidditch like the back of her hand now.

The Gryffindor Captain made Halia catch the Golden Snitch – a small golden ball with wings that flew around during a Quidditch game – almost thirty times before he was satisfied. Half of those times were with an aggressive ball called a Bludger on the loose; trying to hit Halia any chance it got.

"It will be a bit different in an actual match," Oliver explained as he strapped the angry ball back into its case. "Not only will the Bludger be going after other teammates, but there will be a lot more going on in general, which is why it's required that you attend every practice – rain or shine."

She was finally excused for the day, and judging by the setting sun, it was just in time for dinner too. They walked back into the castle together, separating when Oliver headed straight into the Great Hall and Halia headed up the stairs to change out of her new Gryffindor Quidditch robes.

Halia was surprised to find Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville waiting for her in the common room. The second the four boys saw her outfit, they had similar jaw-stricken expressions.

"You're wearing…the Gryffindor Quidditch robes…" Ron mumbled.

"You weren't expelled?" Seamus looked relieved.

Dean's dark skin looked pale. "Bloody hell, you guys! Forget that! You're on the Gryffindor Quidditch team?"

Neville, on the other hand, looked sick. "Blimey, you're not expelled though, are you? I could never live with myself if I was the cause of you getting in trouble…"

"No, no, not at all! I even got back the five points Professor McGonagall took from us… _after_ she made me the new Gryffindor Seeker."

There were yells all around, each boy showing their excitement very loudly.

"You've got to be the youngest seeker in a century!"

"Two, actually," Halia said, smiling. "Oliver told me when we were practicing."

"You must be hungry, then," said Dean, still shaking his head in disbelief. "Let's all go down to dinner."

Halia told them to go on without her; she'd catch up after she changed out of her Quidditch robes. She ran up to her dorm room, digging through the clothes Madam Malkin had sent her. Throwing on a pair of pajama pants and a long-sleeved Gryffindor inspired shirt, she quickly threw on her robes over that and headed back down the stairs.

Jumping out of the portrait hole, Halia reached the Great Hall in no time. She was also extremely amused to see the look of blatant horror on Malfoy's face – probably expecting her to be expelled.

Sitting down next to her friends, she piled a huge serving of mashed potatoes onto her plate. Suddenly, whispers broke out all throughout the hall. Looking up, Halia realized why – lunch time was the normal mail delivery via owls, but for some reason there were four owls carrying a large, long package into the hall.

The color drained from her face when the package was dropped right in front of her; spilling food and drinks all over the table.

"What…is it?" Seamus asked, staring at it curiously.

"Blimey, I know that shape…" Ron whispered, feeling the package up and down.

"Should I open it here?" Halia asked, grabbing the card off the package.

 _Please take somewhere private to open._

 _Professor McGonagall_

Well, that answered Halia's question. Turning to her friends, she picked up the package and slid out from the table. "I'm going to open it in the castle entrance; does anyone want to come with?"

That was a loaded question, because all of her year-mates – or at least, the Gryffindor ones – and even a few older years like the Weasley twins and Oliver Wood all followed her out of the Great Hall.

Halia wasn't quite sure this was what McGonagall meant by _private_ …but what could she do? The package was delivered in front of everyone, so surely she'd have many people wanting to witness what was most likely her first broom.

They all stood together in a circle, with Halia in the middle. Looking around with a giant grin, she started ripping the wrapping off of the package, only to find a beautiful broom inside.

"Blimey, that's a Nimbus 2000!" Ron all but yelled. "That's the newest and fastest model out right now!"

"Mind if I look, Halia?" Fred grabbed the broom from her hands when she nodded, and along with George, they stared at it like it was the Holy Grail. "This is amazing…we are definitely going to win with Halia riding this!"

Eventually, the crowd began to disperse until it was just Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Halia left. A minute later they were still admiring the broom, when suddenly a scoff snapped them out of the trance.

Of course, Malfoy lurked just in front of the double doors to the Great Hall. He approached them.

"First years aren't meant to have brooms, Potter," he sneered. "Oh, just wait until a Professor finds out. You'll be expelled this time for sure."

Seamus stifled a laugh while Ron replied haughtily. "Good thing it was a Professor that gave it to her then, Malfoy!"

Dean nodded, not bothering to hide his smirk. "Halia was made the Gryffindor Seeker after the stunt you pulled during Flying Lessons."

Halia mocked Malfoy's sneer. "Bet you feel stupid now, don't you?"

He didn't say anything; though she was sure his facial expression said it all. There were several moments of silence, and Malfoy's face just kept growing redder.

"I bet you're not half as good with a wand as you are on a broom, you filthy blood-traitor," he finally said with a scowl. "I'd challenge you to a duel, but you're probably too chicken to accept."

"I accept," she said firmly. "Name the time and place."

Malfoy looked surprised for a second, before carefully composing his emotions. "Midnight in the Trophy Room. Crabbe and Goyle will be my second and third."

Second and third? Halia had no idea what he was talking about, and turned to Ron for help. He was already on top of it.

"I will be her second, and Seamus will be her third. Dean will be the look out. We'll be there, Malfoy, so you better not chicken out."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Weasel."

Malfoy disappeared back into the Great Hall, and the four friends exchanged looks.

"I didn't know you could duel," Dean said to Halia. "Where did you learn that?"

Seamus rolled his eyes. "Of course she doesn't know how to duel, Dean! She was raised by muggles!"

Ron turned to her. "You don't know how to duel, do you?"

Halia frowned. "I most certainly do not…what do I do?"

Her stomach was in knots now – the conversation and promise finally sinking in. She couldn't _not_ show up; Malfoy would call her a coward for the rest of the year! He'd never let her live it down! But still…she didn't know how to duel! She was barely getting good with her wand!

"Don't worry, Halia," Ron said quickly. "We will be there with you…right guys?"

Seamus and Dean were quick to give their responses.

"Of course!"

"Wouldn't dream of missing it!"

"Besides," Ron continued. "Whether you know how to duel or not, I still think you can take on Malfoy and win easily!"

Halia could feel the beads of sweat forming on her forehead. "I hope you're right, Ron…"

* * *

When the time of the duel came around, Halia was even more nervous than she'd been at the Sorting! Ron kept trying to calm her down as they waited for Seamus and Dean in the common room, but he was having little luck.

"You guys aren't really thinking of going, are you?"

Halia jumped five feet in the air, and then whirled around to see Hermione lurking in the shadows by the staircase. Her expression was one of disapproval.

"Bugger off, Hermione," Ron said with a nasty growl. "No one even asked you! How did you even find out?"

She looked indignant. "I was…around…when Malfoy propositioned you. I just thought that _Halia_ would be smart enough to decline! You could be killed, or worse, _expelled_!"

Halia frowned. "Or worse? Hermione, you need to sort out your priorities if being expelled is worse than being killed…"

Hermione's response was cut off by the arrival of Seamus and Dean, who were both dressed in all black. Halia stifled a laugh – she would stick out like a sore thumb, then.

"Halia, what in Merlin's name are you wearing?" Seamus asked. "You stick out like a—"

"Doesn't matter, we're out of time! Let's go!"

Hermione followed them all the way into the corridor, lecturing them on rule-breaking. It wasn't until the portrait hole clicked shut that she realized the Fat Lady was conveniently missing from her portrait.

"What am I supposed to do now?" She cried, turning to Halia. "This is your fault! If I get in trouble, I am not taking the blame!"

Halia rolled her eyes. "Hermione, _you_ followed us out here, not the other way around. You can stay here and wait until you can get back into the common room, or you can come with and _shut up."_

The girl apparently thought coming with was a better idea, but she didn't take the second half of what Halia said seriously. In the end, their trek to the Trophy Room was one of the boys constantly telling Hermione to _"shut up!"_ and Halia telling them all to be quiet.

When they reached their destination, no one else was there waiting. It was definitely past Midnight, but just barely, so there was no way they could've missed Malfoy if he'd already been there.

"Do you think he chickened out?" Ron asked.

"Must have," whispered Dean, looking around. "Unless he's hiding in the trophy cases."

"Malfoy, maybe," said Seamus. "But Crabbe and Goyle? No way."

"Good, they're not here, that means we can leave! Before we get in trouble," Hermione whisper-yelled.

Halia frowned. "Let's wait a minute to make sure he…"

She trailed off when the sound of footsteps echoed throughout the room. "Someone is coming!"

The five first-years rushed out of the Trophy Room, skirting around the corner of a corridor, and threw themselves against the wall. For the first time that night, every single person was silent.

"Where did they go, my pretty?" Filch's voice sounded from the other room. "I know they're here somewhere…"

 _That rat!_ Halia knew that instant that Malfoy had set them up. Filch's footsteps grew closer, and her heart started beating faster and harder.

"It was a trap!" she whisper-yelled. "Everyone run!"

They all took off in the opposite direction of Filch, but his footsteps kept getting closer and closer; faster than they could run without drawing attention to themselves. Halia slammed into a door, and tried the knob frantically but it was locked.

"Oh, move!" Hermione shouted, taking out her wand and pointing it at the lock. " _Alohomora!"_

The door unlocked, and they all pushed and shoved into the room; shutting it behind them and locking it again. Halia pushed her ear against the door, listening for Filch's footsteps to fade away. Eventually they did, and she turned towards the others.

"I think we're in the cl..e..ar…uh…guys…behind you…"

The four others turned around, and Hermione let out an ear-splitting scream. There was a giant three-headed dog glaring at them; probably thinking they'd make a good midnight snack. Unlocking and throwing the door open, they ran back to the Gryffindor common room – not bothering to hide or be quiet.

Luck must have been on their side, because they made it back without getting caught.

Ignoring the suspicious look the Fat Lady gave them when they all-but shouted the password, they piled back into safety. Seamus and Dean fell onto the arm chairs by the fireplace, while Ron and Halia collapsed onto the couch in the middle.

"What _was_ that thing?" Ron asked weakly. "And why was it in Hogwarts?"

"That must have been the third floor that's off limits," Dean said, shaking his head. "At least we know why Dumbledore said it was forbidden now…blimey."

"But what is a three-headed dog doing at Hogwarts?" Seamus voiced Ron's question again.

Halia thought she might know the answer, but Hermione beat her to the punch.

"It was clearly standing on something – a trap door, most likely," she said matter-of-factly. "Really, now, don't you pay attention?"

"I was too busy paying attention to its _three heads_ to notice whether or not it was guarding something!" Ron snapped.

"Well," the girl huffed, turning towards the staircase. "I am going to bed. I sure hope you all learned your lesson on breaking rules now."

Halia refrained from rolling her eyes. At least, Hermione was right about one thing – the three-headed dog _was_ guarding something…and Halia thought she might know what it was. For right now however, it was late – or rather, early – and she knew they'd better get some sleep.

"Let's discuss this in the morning," she said tiredly. "Thanks for coming with my, you guys. I'll see you tomorrow?"

The three boys wished her a good night, and then disappeared up the left staircase. Halia headed up the right staircase, hoping Hermione would already be laying down with the curtains up when she got in the dorm room.

She was so tired; she didn't think she could handle the other girl's lecture right now.

* * *

The next morning, Halia was falling asleep as she ate her breakfast. At one point, Seamus had to grab her bowl of oatmeal to prevent her face from getting soaked in it. Catching herself, she wiped her eyes again.

"Why are you so tired?" Neville asked.

She shared a look with Ron, Seamus, and Dean. "Hermione kept me up all night with her lectures."

The other girl sent Halia a disapproving look.

On the Brightside, the look on Malfoy's face when Halia and her friends hadn't gotten in trouble was –yet again – the highlight of her morning.

The Weasley twins and Oliver Wood approached their end of the table, the latter narrowing his eyes at Halia.

"You better be well-rested tomorrow morning," said Oliver. "It's the first practice of the year with the entire team present, so we need you at your best."

"Give her a break, Wood—"

"—you're going to scare her away before the first match, for Merlin's sake."

As usual, Fred and George were finishing each other's sentences with ease. Halia was so exhausted, but there was a sliver of excitement at the thought of flying on her new broom.

"Don't worry, I'll go to bed early tonight," she told Oliver, trying to keep her eyes open.

Halia knew this next week would be one of the longest of her short life, but hopefully it'd be one of the best as well…

* * *

 **A/N:** I am hoping to finish another chapter today, but it might not get posted until tomorrow. In the meantime, don't forget to R &R :)

RegdirbArze EzraBridger, I probably would've kicked Snape in the balls too. Good thing Halia has her temper under better control than we do. xD Thanks for reviewing, and more importantly, thanks for reading! :)


	11. Halloween

_Chapter Ten_

* * *

The beginning of term passed by in a blur, and before they knew it, October 31st had arrived. Classes would go on as normal, but apparently there would be a delicious feast in the Great Hall for dinner.

Halia and her friends were on their way to Potions – every single one of them dreading the class – but she was more excited for Charms, which came after Potions. They were finally learning a real incantation for a floating charm!

"Let's get this over with," she whispered, pushing open the door to the dungeon.

"Just keep thinking about after class," said Seamus, looking equally as put out.

"Yeah, they say if you think hard enough about Potions being over, the end will come faster."

Everyone looked at Dean, who shrugged sheepishly.

"I don't think I've ever heard that before," Ron said, chuckling. "But if there's the tiniest chance it'll go by faster, I am in."

Halia laughed. "Not like we don't think about after class anyway."

Seamus and Dean took the table behind her and Ron like they usually did, but instead of Hermione taking the table in front of them; it was Malfoy and another Slytherin.

She planned to just ignore him, but her plan was cut short when they turned around. Pulling her eyes shut, Halia wished her dark hair could hide her from Malfoy's beady prying eyes.

"Blaise, did you hear that we're doing Forgetful Potions today?" Draco spoke to the other Slytherin, but he stared directly at Halia. "What do you think the chances are that Professor Snape will choose Halia for the demonstration?"

The other Slytherin, Blaise, snickered. "I'd say the chances are fairly likely, and as long as Riddle doesn't volunteer his potion again—" He sent a glare at Thomas, who wasn't paying anyone any attention. "Then it could be quite a laugh for the rest of us."

"Just ignore them," Seamus whispered to her and Ron, who was as equally annoyed as Halia.

Halia opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by the arrival of the Potions Master.

"Potter, shut your mouth! Five points from Gryffindor."

She shared a look with Ron. No words needed to be said to express their fury. Seamus let out a yelp of pain – probably from Dean kicking him in an attempt to keep Seamus' mouth shut – but no one said anything. They didn't dare for fear of the Professor retaliating against Halia.

"Today, we will be brewing Forgetful Potions – though, undoubtedly, this potion is targeted for first-years, it is very important that you follow the directions _exactly_. Any mistake could cause your potion to have terrible side effects," Professor Snape began explaining in his long drawl. "The Forgetful Potion is used to help someone forget a night of trauma or a very bad _specific_ memory – if you brew it incorrectly, the effects could either be longer-lasting, permanent, or the exact opposite of forgetful…"

He began writing the ingredients and directions on the board. "You may begin."

The class started pulling out the ingredients and jotting down the instructions, though there was an unsettling pressure in the air as they got to work. The first hour seemed to pass by slowly, and Malfoy kept sneaking glances at her and Ron; snickering as if he knew something they didn't.

Halia kept her mind completely focused on the potion; on the off chance that Professor Snape chose her potion as the example and not _her_ as the example, she didn't want to be the cause of a terrible accident involving someone else's memory.

As she worked, her focus seemed to calm down her nerves. If Halia tricked herself into believing she wasn't in the cold dungeons of a potion room with the devil's incarnate watching over her every move, then she could almost enjoy herself. Almost.

"Times up!"

Halia snapped her head up, breathing a sigh of relief when her potion turned the exact color it was supposed to. Snape scowled the second he laid eyes on her cauldron.

"Five points from Gryffindor for finishing after I said the time was up, Potter!"

She tried her very best to keep a straight face, though she could feel her eyebrow twitching. Ron clutched her shoulder as a sign of comfort, but everyone kept their mouths closed and their faces blank. No one, especially Halia, wanted to give Professor Snape the satisfaction of seeing them squirm.

"Who will offer up the example for Potter to try today?"

Despite feeling annoyed that the Professor hadn't even chosen her really – automatically acting like Halia was the lab rat of the class – she couldn't hold back the smirk that snuck on her lips. _Of course,_ she thought, _of course I'm the test subject…why wouldn't I be, for Snape's class?_

She was, however, shocked to hear two voices volunteer their potions.

"I will volunteer my potion, Professor," Draco Malfoy said at the exact same time Thomas Riddle said, "I would like you to test my potion."

Snape's lips curled, and Halia got a Very Bad Feeling. "Well, Riddle," said Professor Snape. "I have to have a variety of volunteers in class, so this time I am going to use Malfoy's potion."

When he poured the potion into the vial he held, she felt very sick; the potion was nothing like what it was supposed to be in both color and consistency. Was Snape going to poison her? Her friends looked stricken and terrified, almost as much as she felt.

Professor Snape handed her the vial, and Halia found herself struggling to keep her emotions under control. Several seconds passed by of her just holding the vial, while Malfoy smirked and Snape scowled.

"Any day, Potter," said the Professor. "For every second longer you take, I will take a point from Gryffindor."

She downed it. For a minute, nothing happened.

Then, suddenly, an immense pain travelled through her scull; burning through her forehead in the form of her scar. The memories that filled her head were painful and terrifying; she watched a young man murder both of her parents. His eyes, though, looked so familiar as they stared into her own…

Halia fell to her knees, letting out a scream that ripped through her throat. Tears brimmed at the corner of her eyes, and her head throbbed as every second ticked on. She couldn't see her surroundings; she could only see the grisly memory replaying over and over.

As a child, she'd had dreams of a green light…dreams of her mother smiling down at her and her father holding her above his head like a plane imitation. Those dreams had been something to look forward to; the green light meant nothing back then.

But now, as she watched the lifeless forms of her mother and father repeatedly fall because of that green light, the dream took on a whole new meaning.

Just before reliving the memory, at the very end, she caught a glimpse of a much younger Professor Snape.

It felt like hours later – though it was probably only minutes – that Halia finally came back to the present. She was curled up on the cold dungeon floor, shivering and crying, though surrounded by her friends and housemates.

"Halia, please tell me you're okay?" Ron whispered, helping her sit.

"We need to take her to Madam Pomfrey," Seamus said, trying to haul Halia up.

"Seamus, calm down! She needs to collect herself before she moves a whole bunch!"

When Halia got to her feet, she noticed Hermione and Neville crying; most of the Slytherins in shocked silence, her friends and the rest of her housemates in a fury, but the most surprising was the look of pure astonishment on Professor Snape's face.

She looked straight at him; into his cold, dark eyes. "You were there that night."

This seemed to snap him out of his stupor. "Mr. Thomas, take her to the hospital wing. The rest of you, get back in your seats _now_."

* * *

Dean helped Halia down the corridor; guiding her gently to the hospital wing where Madam Pomfrey gave her a calming draught and a _properly brewed_ Forgetful Potion to help take the edge off the memories.

Halia still remembered things, but they were now accompanied with fogginess. And it hurt to think about it, so she didn't.

When the Medi-Witch finally let her leave, she didn't want to go to Charms class…as excited as she'd been before… the last thing she wanted now was to face her classmates. She knew her friends wouldn't judge her, but she didn't want them to treat her like porcelain either.

Instead, she took up residence in the first floor Girls' toilet. Halia had so much going through her thoughts; she was having a hard time sorting everything.

So, instead of thinking, she just sat in the corner of the last stall staring blankly at the door. She felt alone. She missed her parents. She wanted a family.

An hour or so eventually passed, and Halia was thrown out of her trance by the abrupt appearance of a crying girl in the form of Hermione Granger. She caught her breath, hoping the girl wouldn't find Halia, but her hope was thrown out the window when Hermione came crashing into her stall.

She stopped mid-step; staring at Halia in shock.

"S-s-sorry," Hermione stuttered, sniffling. "Didn't realize this…stall…was taken…"

Halia sighed. "Take a seat."

The girl hesitated for only a moment, before falling next to Halia. They sat in silence for several minutes.

Finally, she turned to Hermione. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

She wiped her nose and sniffed. "Ron said I didn't have any friends because I was a know-it-all…and I think he's right."

Halia frowned – she was going to have to talk to Ron about being such a prat; intentional or not. Patting Hermione's shoulder, she smiled at the girl. "Well obviously Ron doesn't know what he's talking about, because I'm your friend, aren't I?"

Hermione wiped her eyes. "You'd want to be my friend?"

She nodded firmly. "Of course I would. Now, let's go get dinner, yeah?"

Before the other girl could respond, the bathroom door was thrust open and an ungodly smell assaulted their noses. Halia tried not to barf, while Hermione scrunched up her nose.

"What is…" She trailed off when a giant, ugly creature swung what looked like a giant baseball bat over their heads; destroying the top of the stalls.

Both girls screamed.

"That's a troll!" shrieked Hermione, clutching her chest.

Halia made a run for it, dodging the troll, and sliding on her knees to avoid contact with its swinging club. When she slammed into the door, trying to open it, she was horrified to find it locked.

"It's locked!"

She dived back on her knees, sliding towards Hermione who was cowering under the farthest sink; as far away from the monster as possible. Halia curled up next to Hermione.

Less than a minute later, the bathroom door swung open to reveal Ron, Dean, and Seamus.

"Duck!" Ron yelled, while Seamus ran straight at the troll; colliding full-on with its thick leg.

Dean charged at the troll's other leg, while Hermione ducked. Halia, on the other hand, charged straight at the troll; jumping as high as she could. She landed on the back of the beast, and though that didn't stir the troll, her wand going up its nose definitely did. The troll began to flail, and Halia tried desperately to not let go.

It was that moment that Ron lifted his wand and shouted, " _Wingardium Leviosa!"_

The club that the troll had was pulled up and over its head, before falling right on its scull. Halia let out a scream as she fell with the troll, though luckily it fell on its stomach and she was able to easily slide down.

Her wand, on the other hand, was not so lucky; covered from top to bottom in troll bogies.

"That was incredibly stupid of you," Dean said, staring at her. "How could you do that? You could've died!"

"Also incredibly brave though, you must admit that Dean," Seamus spoke up, unable to hide his grin.

Ron helped Hermione to her feet, looking slightly sheepish. Everyone gathered together, immensely relieved and also filled with adrenaline.

"How was Potions after I left?" Halia asked; slightly curious if the Professor took his anger out on her friends.

Ron's eyes grew wide. "Blimey, Halia, I forgot you don't know!"

"Know what?"

Hermione smiled for the first time that night. "Professor Snape gave Malfoy detention for deliberately sabotaging his potion. And gave him a T for the assignment."

" _What!?"_ Halia was shocked.

"It was unbelievable," said Seamus, his accent coming on thick. "Snape was _livid_."

Dean nodded. "I got back just in time to witness everything. I don't think I've ever seen him so angry, especially at a Slytherin."

"Wow," Halia said, breathless.

"He wasn't the only one angry, now that I think about it," whispered Hermione; looking deep in thought. "Thomas Riddle was glaring holes through the back of Malfoy's head for the rest of the lesson."

"Yeah, I noticed that too," Ron confirmed. "I also noticed Malfoy looking slightly put out at dinner."

"Speaking of dinner…did you guys want to go back to the common room and eat?" Dean rubbed his stomach, just as Seamus' growled.

"Sounds good to me," she responded, reaching for the doorknob.

Before Halia could open it however, the door was thrown open by someone else. She could feel the color draining from her skin as the angry faces of Professor McGonagall, Professor Quirrell, and Professor Snape appeared.

Although, Quirrell's expression was more frightened than it was angry.

" _What_ are you five doing?" McGonagall said in her scary-calm voice. "I thought the announcement to go to your common rooms for the rest of the feast was perfectly clear."

Professor Snape stayed eerily silent, though his eyes were focused on Halia and Halia alone.

Much to the surprise of everyone, Hermione was the one who spoke up. "I'm so sorry Professor, but it's not their fault! I had read all about trolls in my textbooks, and thought that perhaps…I could beat the troll on my own…they'd overheard me talking about it and came to stop me."

Halia could tell her friends were trying desperately to keep their faces straight; everyone equally shocked that Hermione would lie to a teacher to keep them out of trouble.

"Well, then…Miss Granger, I expected much better from you. Five points from Gryffindor," Professor McGonagall looked a bit unsure. "Now please take yourself up to your common room where you belong."

Hermione gave one last look to her housemates before disappearing, and Professor McGonagall's wrath changed focus. She surveyed the slightly dirtied and bruised first-years. "As for the rest of you, what you did was incredibly stupid…but it was with a heart of gold. For that, I will award each of you five points. But, should a troll ever escape in the future, I should hope you'll come to a Professor first before deciding to take it on yourself."

"Yes, Professor!" they chorused.

McGonagall nodded. "Right then, there will be food sent up to your common rooms any moment now. I suggest you go enjoy the rest of Halloween night with Miss Granger, as I am sure she would love your company."

The four Gryffindors piled out of the bathroom and made their way to the common room. The walk back was completely silent; all of them still basking in the glory of defeating a mountain troll…and getting over the shock of Hermione getting them out of trouble by lying to a teacher.

Halia also found herself thinking about Snape, and how he was completely quiet when they'd been getting lectured by McGonagall. Surely, under normal circumstances, he would've loved to put his word in, if it meant getting Halia in more trouble…

She shook her head; waving those thoughts from her mind as they reached the portrait hole. The Fat Lady let them in when Seamus said the password, and the four first-years wandered over to the fireplace where Hermione sat alone.

"Mind if we join you?" asked Dean.

"Uh, no, of course not," the girl said quickly, moving over from her spot on the couch.

Dean sat on the opposite end of the couch, Halia in the middle, while Ron and Seamus took the two armchairs. The rest of the night they spent eating and discussing the events of the day.

The five Gryffindors found, from that day on, they'd become very, very good friends. There were some things you just couldn't experience without developing a strong bond, and defeating a giant mountain troll just so happened to be one of those things.


	12. Snape's Secret

_Chapter Eleven_

* * *

November graced the Hogwarts land, and with it came a thin layer of frost that covered everything from the windows to the ground. Once the afternoon warmed up the surroundings, it was hard to tell that it was November at all.

But Halia knew…she knew too well, if only because Oliver was running the Gryffindor Quidditch team rampant in preparation for the first match against Slytherin.

She'd just gotten done practicing from four AM until now – just before breakfast – and was heading into the Great Hall with Fred and George, who looked equally as put out and hungry. She was hungry enough that she wanted to eat and _then_ change out of her Quidditch robes.

Hermione and Seamus were saving her the spot between them, while Ron and Dean were engaged in a very heated discussion on whether or not Halia should eat a big breakfast or nothing at all before the match tomorrow.

She plopped down, grabbing a piece of toast. "I think you're both right, honestly."

Hermione nodded. "You are both right – she should have a breakfast, but not a big breakfast. Enough to where her stomach is full, but not enough that she throws it up on the pitch."

"Are you nervous?" Seamus asked her.

Halia frowned, but Dean was the one who responded. "Of course she is, Seamus! It's her first match, not to mention the entirety of Hogwarts will be watching!"

She gulped, shaking her head. "Thanks, Dean. I really needed that visual."

Ron elbowed Dean, giving him a look that said how stupid he was being. Halia wouldn't lie – she _was_ nervous, but even more, she was _excited_!

Oliver had been working them to the bone, rain or shine, which definitely paid off, as the entire Gryffindor team was doing spectacular. Halia just knew if they played like they'd been training, they'd win the match for sure!

In the meantime, it was Saturday and the five friends had plans to enjoy the warm evening weather while they could. It'd still be a few hours before the sun came out though…

"Hermione, do you have any books on Quidditch?" Halia asked the other girl.

"Uh, yes, actually…I bought it at Flourish and Blotts before I knew what Quidditch was really…it's called _Quidditch through the Ages_." Hermione looked thoughtful. "It was very helpful for tips and stuff, though no use to me at all when it came to actually flying…would you like to borrow it?"

Halia grinned. "Yes, please, if you don't mind."

Ron scoffed. "Of course she minds, it's Hermione and books…"

This time, Dean elbowed Ron. "At least Hermione knows how to read, _Ron_."

Seamus burst out laughing and Halia giggled, while Hermione turned a brilliant shade of red. Ron looked apologetic and embarrassed, which served him right honestly!

"Excellent!" Halia said, grabbing a muffin as she got to her feet. "Do you mind if we go grab it now? The sun's not going to warm things up for a few hours, so I figured I could read some tips and stuff for the game tomorrow…"

Hermione smiled. "Let's go then, shall we?"

The two girls started walking towards the double doors, waving to the boys as they left.

"Yeah, well, you guys have fun with your books and your reading, then!" Ron huffed, shoving another piece of bacon in his mouth.

Dean and Seamus only laughed, shaking their heads at the other boy and waving at the girls.

* * *

Hermione and Halia were curled up on Halia's bed when Athena jumped up letting out a disgruntled _murfow_.

"Athena!" Halia gasped, scooping up the kneazle. "I feel like I haven't seen you in ages!"

She nuzzled in-between Halia and Hermione, giving the former a look that said "how could you forget about me". Halia looked sheepish.

"I've seen her around Hagrid's hut a lot," said Hermione, stroking the kneazle. "She hangs around with a giant orange cat, I think."

Halia was happy Athena was making friends. Sometimes she'd notice her sneaking into bed late at night, but the kneazle would always be gone before morning. The two girls continued reading through Quidditch through the Ages, discussing tips and ideas to help Halia the next morning, while Athena softly purred.

An hour passed by easily; Halia still reading the book on Quidditch, while Hermione had started reading a book about everyday incantations.

"Hey Hermione, did you want to come to the Owlery with me?" Halia asked, closing the book. "I want to send out Hedwig with a letter asking Madam Malkin if she'd like to attend my first Quidditch match."

Hermione closed her book as well. "Sure. I suppose it's almost time to meet back up with the boys, anyway."

The two Gryffindors were wandering down the corridor; Halia with her book on Quidditch swinging back and forth in her hand. She'd finish reading it when they were out by the lake in a bit, most likely.

Hedwig had been more than happy to get some exercise, and zoomed off with the letter to Madam Malkin the second Halia finished tying the string around her leg.

They were headed towards the first floor now; in search for Ron, Seamus, and Dean on the way.

Unfortunately, they didn't expect…or want…to run into Snape instead.

The tall, dark creature that was their Potions Professor looked suspiciously at them. "What are you doing inside…on such a sunny day?"

Halia opened her mouth to respond – to say they _were_ on their way outside – when Snape snatched Hermione's Quidditch book from Halia's hands. "Library books are not permitted outside of the library," he snarled at them. "Ten points from Gryffindor for your negligence."

Hermione and Halia exchanged a look, but didn't have time to tell Snape otherwise as he was already making his bat-like escape. On the other hand, Halia did notice that their Potions Professor was limping as he made his retreat.

She didn't think too long on it, instead huffing in annoyance.

Hermione scowled – a look unbecoming of her, so Halia spoke up. "We'll just get it from him later."

She nodded. "Otherwise, he's basically stealing, right?"

"Yeah, exactly."

They hunted down Ron, Seamus, and Dean – all three of them already by the Black Lake; soaking in the sun. There was a giant, curly tree next to their spot, so Halia took a seat in the shade.

The afternoon was spent outside, talking and relaxing by the lake, and when the evening came, all five Gryffindors weren't ready to go inside.

"Ugh, we better go get some food though," said Seamus, just as Dean lifted a hand to his gurgling stomach.

Halia sighed. "Yeah, you're right. Let's go…"

They started walking back up to the castle; Ron and Seamus deep in conversation, while Dean and Hermione chatted aimlessly. After a few minutes, just as they walked past the Quidditch Pitch, Hermione caught up with Halia.

"When should we get the book back?"

This – _of course_ – pulled Ron out of his conversation. "What book? Why is it always you and books?"

Dean glared at him. "Your mouth is big enough for all the food you're about to eat, why don't you shove your foot in it in the meantime?"

Halia rolled her eyes. "Snape took Hermione's book from me, saying library books have to stay in the library."

Seamus raised his eyebrows. "But I thought it wasn't a library book?"

"Exactly," said Hermione, crossing her arms. "It's not."

"Snape is such a git," Dean shook his head. "I'd say let's go get it back from him right now – before dinner."

Halia thought about it a moment. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to finish the book before the match tomorrow."

Hermione stared her down. "You better get a good night's sleep too, though, right?"

She blushed. "O-of course, Hermione. Or should I start calling you mum?"

It was Hermione's turn to blush.

* * *

It was on their way to the Potion Professor's classroom that Halia remembered her observation from earlier. Her friends were in the middle of discussing what they were going to eat first for dinner, so she had no qualms about interrupting.

"I don't know about you, but I'm going to have a sturdy helping of mashed—"

"I noticed something earlier," she whispered, cutting Seamus off. "I noticed something about Snape earlier."

Ron snickered. "That he's still a right foul git despite giving Malfoy detention?"

Dean chuckled. "That was pretty much a given."

"No, that's not it," Hermione said suddenly, her voice soft. "He was limping…"

Halia turned towards the other girl. "So you noticed it too, then?"

She nodded. "I did, but I didn't think much of it at the time. I was so annoyed that he took my book…Do you think it's from…?"

Hermione didn't have to finish – all four of them knew what she was going to say. A look passed between them, followed by a jump in Halia's stomach.

"The question is why Snape would try to…" She trailed off, feeling a strike of panic when the Potions Professor materialized in front of them.

"Why Snape would try to what, Ms. Potter?" His drawl was cold, but his eyes were narrowed. "And you'd do well to remember that I am your Professor, not your equal. It's _Professor_ Snape."

"Sorry… _Professor_."

He scowled at the five of them. "Now tell me, what were you speaking about?"

Halia gulped.

"Professor, can I speak to you for a moment?"

It was probably the first – and only – time they felt so relieved to hear Filch's voice. The Potions Professor glared at them one last time before stocking off; following the caretaker.

"Blimey, that was terrifying," Ron whispered.

"Let's just go and get the book back so we can eat." Dean rushed ahead of them, leading the way to the dungeons.

* * *

They were heading to the Great Hall at last; five stomachs growling in a starving symphony. Unfortunately, they were once again stalled by the voice of their Potions Professor.

Only this time, he wasn't talking to them.

Halia held out her arm, stopping Seamus in his tracks. In turn, the other three stopped as well. She peered around the corner; studying Snape and Filch as they spoke in hushed whispers.

"I thought I was quite clear when I said I didn't need treatment from the infirmary," Snape spoke in his cold drawl. "You'd do well to mind your own business, Argus."

"But the dog—"

"The bite is not severe. Now for once, go and do your job."

The conversation was clearly over, and both adults made their escape down different stairwells. The five Gryffindors exchanged looks; knowing exactly what Snape had been bitten by.

Their earlier suspicions were now confirmed. Halia opened her mouth, about to say something, when Seamus held up his hand.

"Dinner," was all he said.

Without another word, they headed to the Great Hall to fill their empty stomachs.

Upon reaching the double doors, Halia spotted Athena from the corner of her eye. The kneazle was hovering in the foyer of the castle, staring at her.

"Uh, you guys go ahead, I'll be right there…"

Her friends shrugged, but left her nonetheless. Wandering over to the animal, she held out her arms instinctively when Athena jumped at her.

"What's wrong, pretty girl?"

The kneazle started to purr. For a minute, all she did was rub herself on Halia.

"I'm starting to think all you wanted was some attention," she cooed, bending over to set her down.

When Athena scampered onto the Hogwarts grounds, Halia turned to finally go and grab dinner. Before she got the chance though, someone knocked into her and she found herself falling.

A second later, she was on her back. Not even realizing she'd clenched her eyes shut, Halia opened them expecting to see the foyer's ceiling.

Instead, she was staring into a pair of very familiar but very cold blue eyes.

She couldn't help but smirk. "Now who's not watching where they're going?"

Thomas didn't say anything, but he didn't move either. Both of his hands were on either side of Halia's head, and his knees were brushing against her thighs.

Several moments passed, and Halia felt herself growing uncomfortable. "Er, Thomas, can you get off me please?"

Faster than she'd expected – faster than she'd even seen anyone move before – the boy gracefully jumped off of her and disappeared into the Great Hall. Not even an apology.

Halia wanted to think of him as a git, but she couldn't. She remembered how he stuck up for her on several occasions. Thomas was awkward and cold, but he wasn't a git.

Probably. Maybe.

Who even cared? Not Halia, that's for sure.

She hadn't even realized her hesitance in the middle of the foyer until a voice startled her out of her reverie.

"You look like you're in another world right now."

She spun around, only to see another familiar face – only this time, the person was smiling.

"Cedric!" Halia beamed, smiling back at him. "I haven't seen you since before term even started! How are classes?"

He laughed. "I should be asking you that. You are the one new to Hogwarts, after all."

Halia was surprised to feel that Hogwarts didn't feel very new at all. Not anymore.

Now, it felt like home.

 _No,_ Halia corrected herself. "Hogwarts is my home," she told Cedric, voicing her thoughts. "I might be new, but it doesn't feel like it. I've never felt more comfortable."

Cedric grinned. "Glad to hear it! You should probably go grab food before it disappears though - I can hear your stomach growling from here."

She felt her cheeks grow red, but instead of feeling embarrassed, she grinned back. "Will do! Nice seeing you again, Cedric!"

Halia scampered off into the Great Hall; taking her seat in-between Hermione and Dean at last. Her stomach was finally happy, and dinner was a much-needed relief.

The only thing that bothered Halia was the feeling of eyes boring into her.

She had a feeling on whose eyes they were too. Part of her felt awkward and entirely too visible, but the other part of her took hold and turned around to meet his gaze.

But Thomas didn't back down. It felt like hours passed, though the clock behind the Slytherin table told her that only five minutes had.

And then, suddenly, Thomas smirked. Halia was not expecting him to smirk – he never did anything except stare coldly. She'd gotten used to his lack of expression.

But there he was. Smirking. At her.

And then he looked away, focusing on the food in front of him instead. Thomas gave her goosebumps. He was terrifying. He was annoying. He was arrogant and rude.

But most of all, to Halia, he was intriguing. And her curiosity burned.

"Halia, are you okay?"

She turned back to her friends; feeling sheepish that she'd drifted into her own thoughts again. "I'm fine," she assured Hermione. "Just…thinking about things."

"Would things happen to be Thomas Riddle?" Seamus asked, causing Dean to smirk.

Ron grinned. "And why he keeps staring at you?"

"And why you keep staring back?"

She glared at Dean, who'd asked the last question. "I stare back because I don't understand why he stares in the first place."

It was Hermione's turn to smile. "But Halia – everyone stares at you. Thomas is just the only one you notice staring."

She could feel her friends' eyeing her. Trying to figure her out. But not even Halia understood her curiosity for Thomas. She felt a connection to him.

It wasn't friendship. It definitely wasn't romantic – she was too young to even consider that aspect. The most she could chalk it up to was mystery.

Thomas was a mystery, and by heart and nature, Halia always wanted to solve mysteries.

* * *

 **A/N:** I know it's been a while since I've updated. I won't lie and say it won't happen again, because chances are that it will. But I will say that regardless of how long it takes me to update, I am confident that - eventually - I will finish this project. It might take months. It might take years. But it will get done. Right now, I just finished another book series, so I'll be able to dedicate my time to writing this for a bit until something else catches my fancy.

Thanks for your patience, and thanks for sticking with me. :)


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